Seraphim
by Silverneko9lives0
Summary: Castiel proclaims himself the new god. All will bow before him or feel his wrath. but Dad isn't too happy and sends the oldest of all his sons to give Castiel a taste of humanity. Disregards Season 7, Destiel bromance to romance
1. prologue and 1

_**Seraphim**_

_**Don't read if you haven't seen **__**all**__** of season six. **_

_I claim the right to claim artistic license in any category of fiction and any sub-category of fiction on the basis of mutual entertainment for the audience and myself. I promise to be true to the characters and the story line they represent while claiming aforementioned artistic license, no matter what may entail. _

_Castiel proclaims himself the new god. All will bow before him or feel his wrath. Well, daddy dearest isn't too happy and now dad sends the oldest of all his sons to give Castiel a taste of what humanity is really about. Disregards the events of Season 7 __**Destiel bromance to romance**_

PROLOGUE: CASTIEL'S PUNISHMENT

Castiel loomed over them. Bobby, Sam, and Dean felt a fear that they never felt before. They are frightened by him. I can tell.

"Castiel," I say. My voice is gentle, but the effect is the same. Castiel's eyes widen and he looks around, his face unreadable as ever, but I can tell he's afraid. "Castiel, what are you doing?"

"Who are you?"

"I am your father."

He's afraid, like a child who has done something horribly wrong. And knows it. "Where have you been?" he asks. The Winchester brothers and Bobby are still afraid, and they're more afraid now that I am here. "Why have you abandoned us?"

My heart aches, as it always does, when my children ask me this.

"I never left," I say. "I heard every word you have prayed, every word you have uttered, and thought. Castiel, my son, I allowed this to go as far as allowable. What you are doing now is intolerable. You cannot and will not take my place."

"WATCH ME!"

I knew this could happen, and I allowed it anyway. I appear before them, dressed in ragged jeans, a plaid shirt and a patched up jean jacket. The holes in my wrists itch a little for what I must now do.

"Brother," Castiel said. "You come here to defy me as Father has?"

"Cas, I had high hopes for you. I thought you of all your brothers and sisters would be most understanding of what I stand for."

"What are you talking about, Brother?"

"Hey, hey, hey, who the hell are you?" Dean asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"I'm known best as Jesus."

"_The _Jesus? Jesus Christ?" Sam asks.

"Yes, that is my name. One of them, anyway."

"Well, we're officially screwed," Bobby muttered.

"No, actually, you're not. Can't say the same for Cas though."

"You have no power over me, Brother," Castiel growled. "I am God now."

"No, you're not," I snap back. "Castiel, you have no sense of wisdom. You have power, but not love _or _mercy. At the moment, you are just some nuclear reactor waiting to explode!"

"Then why didn't you stop the Apocalypse?"

"I have the ability to be omnipotent, but I chose not to be. Trapping Mike wasn't supposed to happen, but that's okay, things like this happen all the time. It's not a setback."

"So you're going to put everything back in its proper place?'

"No, I'm not. It will happen again. Eventually. And hopefully no one will try to stop it again. It's meant to happen. So it will happen, but when it is supposed to. Not realizing that the time was right was my mistake. But Cas," I turn back to Castiel. He raises his hand and snaps his fingers. I raise an eyebrow. He tries again. I sigh and approach him, backing him against the wall. He's frightened. Though this makes me sad, I touch his forehead none the less.

A bright light fills the room. Everyone except for me closes his eyes. Castiel screams as I pull the souls out of his body and send them back into purgatory. He slumps to the ground after the light dies and passes out.

"That should do it," I say. "Sam, Dean, give him the benefit of the doubt. He has no idea what it is he did. He's still very much a child."

"What did you do to him?" Sam asked.

"I turned him into a human. He has everything that you have. Besides, on a level, this is what he really wanted. I'll check in now and again." I prepare to leave

"Wait. Wait!" Dean shouted. I look at him again. "You can't just dump this on us, you son of a bitch. You have a lot of questions to answer and I'm not letting you go until—"

"Dean, what I do in my spare time is none of your business. But I'm here and I listen and if you think I'm not listening or doing something about it, then I suggest you get that plank out of your eye and the beeswax out of your ears. Because all I ever hear from a lot of people is a bunch of shit that I cannot be bothered with. Take care of Cas or don't. It's your call. I'll be around if you need me."

With that, I vanish from their sight.

Dean and Sam jump at Cas, trying to wake him up.

He won't wake up. Not yet. It may be a while until he is able to do so. His vessel, now his body, will need to readjust to human needs.

Dean hoists Cas into his arms, carrying him out of the warehouse and to his damaged Impala. I watch them call a tow truck and I watch them wait, trying to wake Cas. They give up as they wait. When the tow truck comes, they put Cas inside while Bobby talks to the serviceman.

I turn away from them, looking at the sky, arms crossed and thinking.

Leaving Heaven may have been a mistake. I had overestimated my sons. This will seem like a punishment to him. But he will learn that I don't punish my children without good reason. I wouldn't be a good father if I did, would I?

ONE

My memory is a blank slate. But only for a moment. When I open my eyes, I'm in Bobby's panic room. I try to sit up. My wrists are cuffed to the bed.

"How're you feeling?"

I look to the right. Dean is sitting on the table, his arms crossed over his chest. "Sore. Why am I cuffed to the bed? What happened?"

"It's a precaution," he said. "What do you remember?"

I stared at the ceiling, watching the fan circle clockwise. "I remember taking in souls from purgatory."

"And?"

"That's all. Did something go wrong?"

"Well, if by going wrong you mean you succeeded, then yes. You claimed yourself to be God. You're dad showed up after that and knocked you out after deactivating you. Honestly, I'm still wrapping my head around that your dad's Jesus."

"Jesus is my oldest brother, whom we call 'our Brother'. He's not my dad."

"Cas, he's both your brother and your dad."

"That's not possible."

"Sam and Bobby read up what they could. It's some weird thing called the Trinity. Supposedly, it's like God has three different personalities. There's the Dad, the Son, and the Spirit." He rubbed his forehead with his pointer finger and thumb, pinching the skin together. "Just thinking about makes my head hurt. Damn, why does all this god and angel stuff have to be so complicated?"

I don't understand what he means by complicated. I'm still trying to make sense that all this time, my Brother was Father and the other way around. The inside of my skull began to throb, causing a dull pain. "Dean, my head hurts."

"Are you going to go all crazy on me or can I let you up?"

"I won't go 'all crazy.' You can let me up."

Dean grabbed a pair of keys off the desk and walked to my side. The cuff's grip slackened and I sat up, rubbing the feeling of the steel off my skin.

My stomach let out a loud growl and I stared down at it, perplexed. I have no need to eat, and I know that this sound signals a need to eat.

"Come on," Dean said, slapping my shoulder. "We ordered pizza."

Dean and I walked up the stairs to Bobby's living room. Sam met up with us carrying two large boxes.

"Hey, Cas," he said, "how are you feeling?"

My stomach growled again. "I think the growling in my stomach means I'm hungry."

"You know you could just say hungry," Sam said, smiling. I may be wrong, but I think Sam is mocking me mentally.

"I'm more concerned that I _am _hungry. The last time I was hungry I ate almost…how many hamburgers?"

Dean and Sam exchanged glances.

"I don't think you have to worry about that, Cas. Though, binging that much could cause trouble next time. People have died eating like that."

"Then why bother eating if there is a possibility of dying? I'm still worried about why I want to eat."

"You didn't tell him?" Sam asked Dean haughtily.

"I told him." Dean said, defensively.

"Did you actually say, 'Cas, God made you human'?"

Dean remained silent. I feel cold and my spine tingles unpleasantly. I thought I was just "deactivated." But it makes sense.

The Winchesters look at me, I see fear in their eyes.

"We told you to tell him straight," Bobby snapped at Dean. "Idjit," he muttered under his breath, pulling beer out of the refrigerator. My vision swam. My stomach was doing flips. My legs feel wobbly. Everything went black.

When everything came back, I was in a chair.

"Cas, eat. Now," Sam snapped, handing me a tall glass filled with clear liquid, "and here's some water. Little sips." I ignored Sam's advice and swallowed three large gulps. My stomach did not like it. "Little sips, Cas! Jeez." Sam snapped, after I set the glass down and doubled over, clutching my empty stomach. Sam rubbed my back. "You'll be fine in a bit. Relax."

"Why d'you think he fainted?" Dean asked.

"Malnourishment and dehydration mingled with shock, probably," Sam answered. "It'd happen to me, I'm sure, if I was an angel-turned-human." After a few minutes, I was able to sit up again and this time, sipped the water.

"Why did God turn me into a human?"

"Well, I think trying to take his place was one reason, but he said something about how it was what you really wanted," Sam suggested.

"Why would I want to be a human? Humans have all these unnecessary functions and emotions that hinder their better judgment."

"Yeah, well, angels aren't exactly all fun and games either." Bobby said. He sounded a little annoyed. I felt a twinge of something that may be guilt. I took a plate and a triangular slice of the pizza. I believe it's called a supreme pizza, based on how many vegetables and bits of sausages covering the cheese. I took a small bite and chew, avoiding Bobby's eyes.

I never noticed how scary he really was. But maybe because I'm human now, I'm noticing things I never thought to be important before.

"Relax, Cas," Dean said, "He's just giving you a hard time."

I look up. "He is?"

"Yes."

"Oh." I return to my pizza, eating slowly, concentrating on each bite. I don't know if I'll ever get used to being human. The thought is ludicrous. I know I'm not asleep, but I wish I was. Because if so, then this is a dream. And people wake up from dreams. Most of the time.

I don't know what to expect next. Now that I'm eating, I will be doing other human things, like sleeping and going to the bathroom and all those annoying rituals humans do for the sake of…something.

I'm not sure I like being human.

* * *

This is a trial run for this story. I'll leave these two chapters up for the first few days (about a month), and if people want to read more, just say keep or, if it's not catching any interest, say not keep.

Be aware that though this is a slash fic, it will be heavily theological at times and I'm doing my best to keep all the characters in character.


	2. 2 and 3

TWO

I watch as Sam and Dean give the Impala a "tune up." I've watched them do this from time to time, usually away from their eyes. Now I watch, more curious than indifferent. I'm bored. At least I think this feeling is equivalent to boredom.

I sigh a little too audibly.

Sam looked up. "Something up, Cas?"

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are," Dean mumbled. "You could go watch some porn if you want."

"No, I'm good."

"Cas, you're a human now. One of the things we do is watch porn during hard times. With that in mind, go watch porn."

"I don't want to watch porn. I'm just…bored."

"All the more reason to go watch some _Busty Asian Beauties_ or _Casa Erotica_," Dean said.

"Dean, shut up," Sam snapped. "Why not show him how to fix a car."

Dean looked horrified. "No. I'm not letting him anywhere near my baby."

"It doesn't have to be the Impala," Sam said calmly. "It can be any of these old cars."

"But my baby needs me."

Sam rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed. "Well, if you're not going to do anything about it, then I will. Come on, Cas. We'll head into town. There's a new movie playing at Century 14."

"Which movie?" Dean asks. It is warning, not curiosity, that makes his ask.

Sam fights down a grin and looks at Dean seriously. "They're showing _The Titanic_ in 3D."

Dean glared incredulously at Sam. "What you watch in your spare time is your time, Sam, but don't torture Cas like that! Unlike someone I can mention, he's actually got a pair. The only thing worth seeing that movie for is Winslet's boobs."

"_Titanic_ was bad enough the first time it came out," I said. "Is there anything else playing?"

Sam leaned close to me. "Actually we're seeing _Wrath of the Titans_. I just don't want Dean to know. Since he's being an ass, he can miss out."

"Oh. Okay." I touch Sam's forehead, ready to transport to the theater. Nothing happens. I believe the term for this situation of forgetfulness is "crap."

"It's okay Cas," Sam said. "I'll drive."

I hate driving. It's slow.

We reach the theater in fifteen minutes. Sam hands me a twenty dollar bill. "Get in line for the tickets and when you get to the teller, ask for two tickets to _Wrath of the Titans_, hand him the money, and he'll give you the tickets and the change. I'll meet you inside. _Stay in the lobby._"

"Okay." I got out of the car and Sam drove off. Did he think I didn't know how this worked? I know I can be a little naïve, but I'm not stupid.

Walking to the back of the line behind a mother and her two children, I looked around, letting go of any resentment I had toward Sam's…doting, I suppose I could call it.

The last time I was at any theater was in Rome during the time of Emperor Nero and the Christian Persecutions.

"Hey buddy, line's moving," a heavy set man in a cap said. I moved forward, fingering the twenty dollar.

"One adult and two children for _The Hunger Games_," the mother said, her children crowding around her.

They left and I approached, clearing my throat. "Two adults for _Wrath of the Titans_."

"$18.50," the teller said. I slid the twenty under the slot. She handed me a dollar and two quarters as change along with two slips of medium thick paper. "Enjoy the movie," she said, giving me a smile.

I walked into the theater and stood still, waiting for Sam.

I saw him in a line for food. He found me and approached, holding a large bag of popcorn and two giant cups filled to the brim. The liquid was held in place by plastic lids. I relieved his load by taking one of the cups.

"Did you get the tickets."

"Of course I got the tickets," I said holding up the paper. "Do you want your change back?"

"Uh…later. How much?"

"$1.50."

"I'll get it later. You see that guy behind the black box?"

"Yes."

"Give him the tickets when we get up to him. He'll tear them across a dotted line and hand half of them back to us. Then he'll tell us which theater to go to."

"I thought this is the theater."

"It is. I meant the room we're supposed to go to. They're numbered. Come on, I don't want to miss the previews."

Previews?

The man behind the box did exactly as I was told and I followed Sam's instructions.

"Theater three, to the left. Enjoy the show."

Why do people keep telling me to enjoy the show? What if I don't enjoy the show? What if I don't want to enjoy it? Do I have to enjoy it? Is it an order?

I tap Sam's shoulder and ask him these questions.

"It's just something you say to people, like 'good luck' or 'have a nice day.' It means nothing. The point here is to have fun and rub it in Dean's face when we get back."

"Like how it's fun when he calls you 'bitch' and you answer back with 'jerk?'"

Sam glares at me.

We enter the theater and found seats in the back row and the movie began. Why we had to make the previews, I'll never know.

Though this movie called the _Raven_ is rather interesting.

THREE

Two hours later, we're back at Bobby's.

Dean and Sam are arguing. Something about how Sam is a douche bag or how Dean is a douche bag. I ignore them. My boredom has been relieved. That's all that matters to me right now as I flip through the various pages in one of Bobby's books.

The clamoring is making my head hurt.

"Not stepping in?" Bobby asks.

"What aim would that achieve?"

"Well, I suppose we'll let the ladies work out their differences."

I laugh. It was a small laugh, I think a kind of laugh that is more accurately called a "chortle." Bobby stares at me. "What?"

"I thought you didn't know how to laugh."

"I know how to laugh. I just never had a real sense of humor before."

Bobby handed me a glass filled with whiskey. I thank him, taking the glass.

"The least you can be is understanding of his situation, Dean! The guy just got God-zapped!"

"Cas is a big boy! He can handle it!"

I take a sip before finally taking part. "Sam, thank you for your concern, but I am fine. Dean, it's just a movie. So _please _shut up. I have a headache."

The shouting done, I got back to my whiskey. I'm surrounded by the brothers. An instinct in the back of my head tells me I ought to have kept my mouth shut, but I don't make it obvious to them.

"You're anything _but _fine," Sam said. "You're dad turned you into a human. You passed out this morning because the needs humans have is taking hold on you. You're bored, you're drinking…"

I take another sip. He's right. I'd like nothing more than to just disappear right now, and I keep trying to, but humans are unable to disappear as angels are.

And I am a human.

I wipe my mouth on my sleeve, getting rid of excess liquid. Then I stand setting the whiskey down. Bobby watches, as though we're putting on a show of sorts. "Maybe you're right, Sam. Maybe I am torn up over this. But I'll be fine, eventually. Until then, I am dealing with it."

"Right now, Cas, you're in denial. In a little while, you really will accept it, but not right now. Over the next few days, maybe weeks, you're going to feel guilt, anger, depression, then after that, you'll work your way up toward acceptance. By then, you'll probably get your wings back."

"If he gets his wings back," Dean mutters.

"Not helping," Sam snapped.

The room became disturbingly taciturn. For a few seconds, no one uttered a word or dared to breathe. The phone broke the silence. Bobby stood and went to fetch it.

"Yeah? Alright. I'll get someone on it." He hung up the phone. "Okay, idjits," he said, addressing Sam and Dean. "There's a job for you in Seattle. A ghost infestation at the Paramount Theater. The hunter up there was an idjit that thought he was dealing with one, ganked it, but turns out there's about ten more."

"TEN?" Dean and Sam shouted.

"Good luck."

"Really, we're about to go and gank ten ghosts?"

"You've had better odds, I know, but you've exercised how many demons in one go?"

"Okay, point taken."

"Seattle, huh. This is going to be a long drive."

"Enough time to kiss and make up," Bobby noted.

"Why would they kiss? They're brothers." They glance at me. "That was sarcasm again, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Cas, that was sarcasm," Dean said, grabbing his coat. "Ready, Sammy?"

"Yeah. I suppose." They walked to the door.

"I could help," I offer, feeling a sense for what may be need or a desire for feeling of use.

Sam and Dean exchanged glances.

"I don't think you'd be much help this time, Cas," Sam said, a note of apology in his voice.

"Sorry, bud. Brush up on gun use while we're gone. We'll take you on the next run," Dean said.

They left.

I stare at the tabletop, trying to reign in these emotions. I don't understand why I am feeling this way. It's annoying and yet I need no trouble in knowing what this feeling is:

Dejection. At least I think this is dejection.

I hear the whiskey bottle pour into my glass.

"Drink up. It's going to be rough sailing for a while. In the meantime, I got a few cars that could use a fixing and I could use another pair of hands. You up for that?"

I nod, unsure where my voice had gone.


	3. 4 and 5

FOUR

For the three weeks they were gone, Bobby taught me how to fix a car well enough that I could work on some of the cars on my own outside while he took care of Hunter business.

The more I worked, the more efficient I became at mechanics. It was slow going, but at least it kept me busy most of the time.

Bobby occasionally would have me drop what I'm doing to run errands, such as going to the library to fetch books for research.

Other times, I learned how to shoot, wasting rounds on soda cans and beer bottles.

For a short while, a young woman visited me while I worked. She was blonde and blue eyed, scantily clad in a tight fitting top and shorts wearing sandals and her hair tied back in a ponytail.

I enjoyed her company mostly, but after three days, she stopped coming because she was heading back to Texas with her family. She left her phone number for me to call.

I'm not sure I will, though. Relationships aren't my strong suit.

The Impala pulled up, loud rock music that Dean loved playing. They parked the car and got out, the music shutting off mid-phrase. Whatever happened over the week brought them, yet again, closer. Some might not see it, but I knew the Winchester brothers better than others, and Bobby knew them better than I did.

"Hey, Cas," Sam greeted, "how's it going?"

"As you can see," I said, "I'm making progress on this car."

"Really?" Dean said, examining the work I've done so far. "She's looking good. Did Bobby teach you?"

"Who else? The two of you were off on a hunt." My intent was not to make them feel guilt, but to state a fact. But I made them feel guilty none the less. "I'm not resentful," I add.

"But we shouldn't have brushed you off so easily," Sam said, "We're sorry, Cas."

"Yeah," Dean said. "We've got some time off. I'll lend you a hand, if you like."

I thought about it. With an extra pair of hands, the speed will double, and with Dean's expertise, the amount of mistakes I might have made without my knowing will minimize to zero. Though I doubt I made any. "Sure," I say. Dean and Sam leave to put their things away.

After about twenty minutes, Dean returns and reviews what I've accomplished so far, giving me a moment to get something to drink. I brought Dean a beer. I preferred to drink bottled water while I worked. It had a better effect than alcohol when I worked.

"What's the make?" Dean asked, looking under the hood. I lean against the garage door. "A 1966 Ford Galaxie sedan?"

"Yes. 500XL."

"The engine?"

"A 427 cid ovh V-8. 410 horse power. A majority of the parts are in good condition."

"Well, the electrical system seems good. What about the fuel system?"

"The air filter has been cleaned out already. And the fuel filter was changed earlier today. The PCV valve is in good condition."

Dean arches an eyebrow at me.

"What?"

"I've been gone three weeks and you turn into a car encyclopedia?"

"I memorized what Bobby taught me."

"Okay," Dean said, a note of surprise in his voice.

He continued to ask me questions about what I've done so far. I felt confident that I had given him the most accurate information I could offer. Over all, most of the inner workings of the car had been taken care of and what remained as the interior and exterior trappings of the vehicle.

Though I was grateful for Dean's help, I felt a little anxious having him work on this car with me. I know he's the better mechanic, having had more practice than I, and I know I can benefit from his expertise.

Still I felt his presence may compromise the work I've done so far.

Maybe this feeling is unfounded and purely emotional. Either way, I swallowed any pride (for that is all it could be: human pride) and let him help.

In two hours, the car's mechanical structure is put back together. From here on, it was as matter of replacing and fixing windows, but before I could thank Dean for his help and return to working in solitude, Sam called us in for dinner.

We were each given a bag of fast food.

"How have you been, Cas?" Sam asked. I refused to answer while chewing, so I ignored him, glaring at the sandwich in my hands. "Sorry, bad timing." I shrug. After a minute I swallow.

"As expected, I suppose. Been busy a little to keep my mind off things."

"Good to hear," Sam said, picking up his beer bottle and taking a swig. "You know, Dean and I had a rather interesting conversation earlier. I was wondering if I could get your opinion."

Dean's eyes widened menacingly at Sam and he made cutting motions with his hand across his neck.

"Whatever it was," I say, "Dean doesn't want us talking about it."

He glances at Dean. "Fine, I won't bring it up."

Though Sam said he'd leave the topic alone, and though he switched to their kill over the last few weeks, I believe that whatever Sam wanted to talk about had yet to be given up.

FIVE

"Dean what?" I ask, unsure I believe what Sam told me over breakfast early the next morning. We're the only two up. I had just finished my breakfast while Sam was beginning his. I kept him company out of politeness. "I find that unlikely."

"So does Dean, but I think it makes sense that he'd probably be in love with you, Cas."

I shake my head. Dean is the most unlikely person to change his sexual orientation that I know. He's almost homophobic. Almost.

"Well, fine, don't believe me, but I've suspected it for a while."

"And how long counts as 'a while.'" I ask. "Three weeks? All we have is a possibility and it's a very _small _possibility."

"Actually, I've suspected that Dean may still be in the closet about it for much longer than three weeks. Try a few years." Sam said, pouring a cup of coffee for himself. "He tries really hard to mask his interest to the point that he's almost a jerk. He's not as bad as some when they're in denial, but there are times it really comes out. The string of women he's been with…you know how many of them were long term? Only one: Lisa. And that was the year he thought I was in Hell. Most of the time, he never makes a month with a girl. Well, there are then only two options: either he's a douche who picks them up and drops them fast or he's running from something about himself. It's subtle so most people think he's just a douche, but I'm with my brother more than most. He can be a jerk, but he's not a douche. At least not that kind of douche."

"You and Dean are on the road a lot, Sam," I point out. "You may think your brother's gay, but I'm pretty sure he's not. Dean's inability to have a long lasting relationship with a woman may be something entirely different. If anything, it's a result of being on the move all the time. His job requires that he travels a lot. I'm sure it's difficult for most hunters to find a man or woman they want to spend the rest of their lives. Some do, but not always."

Sam gulped his coffee. "Okay," he said. "Say I'm wrong and Dean's not gay. What about yourself? Do _you _think you're in love with my brother?"

"Sam, you studied law, not psychology."

"I took a couple electives. Freudian studies was a little weird, but beside that…"

I looked at Sam in the eye. He waited for my answer. "I love your brother," I say, "But I'm not _in love _with him. He's my charge and my friend. Same as you. That's all it is."

Sam shrugged. "Too bad. I suppose I'll have to break the news to Becky."

"Who?"

"Chuck's biggest fan."

"Oh. Her. Why? Would she be disappointed?"

"Well, for a while, her favorite pairing was…'wincest'…" Sam shuddered. "But it sounds like she's changing gears and wanted to know for sure. We ran into her up in Seattle. She asked Dean if you and him were together and the idea was just too grand not to suggest. Also after that, he dreamt about you."

"Why would dreaming about me suggest anything?"

Sam snickered. "I know your naïve, Cas. I didn't know you were _that _naïve."

"Did you tell you he dreamt about me?"

"Well, no. It was kind of obvious. He was a bit jumpy when I mentioned your name."

"I wouldn't call that substantial evidence to anything. Anyway, I have windows to put on my car."

I head out to the garage and grab measuring tape. Sam followed.

"You're not going to consider it?"

"Consider what? I appreciate your interest, Sam, but you have nothing that is worthy of my consideration. Besides, your brother asked you to leave it be, so perhaps you should respect his wishes."

"Fine," he said, taking another gulp of coffee. "How's being human coming?" he asked. I am glad he changed the subject. The previous conversation felt a little awkward.

I pause, thinking. "Annoying. I could probably have this thing done by now," I indicated the Galaxie with a quick glance, "if not for the need to sleep or eat or use the bathroom."

"You didn't have to go to the bathroom when you were an angel?"

"Well, I did," I admit. "But it was more for Jimmy than anything else. But when I wasn't in my vessel, there was no need for a bathroom." I could see another question on Sam's face. "Yes, I showered," I said before he could put his question to words, "And brushed my teeth. Vessels have to be taken care of regardless and that includes keeping them clean. Vessels that smell bad are unpleasant at _least_."

"Good to know, but I was actually going to ask if you wanted any help with the car."

"I thought you didn't know how to fix a car."

"Dean taught me some stuff. I'll get the other side," he set his coffee cup down and moved around. After getting the measurements for the windshield, we searched the yard for the windshield needed from some of Bobby's stock.

By the time we found one that would work, it was almost ten in the morning.

We carefully removed the window and carried it to the Galaxie, setting the glass on a table I had cleared the night before after dinner so I wouldn't have to worry about it when I found a matching windshield.

Before putting the windshield back, I checked the windshield's clips, making sure no damage had become of them during the glass' transportation. Satisfied with their quality, I wipe away any dust and dirt that gathered around the windshield's area.

Once that had been done, I checked the urethane to make sure it had been filed down to three millimeters, though I knew Dean had already took care of that yesterday along with the priming.

The next step is to prime the windshield so that it will stay in place.

"Good morning."

I look behind me at Dean still yawning, but over all awake. "How long you ladies been up?"

"About six AM," Sam said. "What time is it?" he asked checking his watch.

"Time for breakfast," Dean said, walking to the Impala. "Morning baby," he said patting the car's hood.

"Dean it's noon."

"For _you _it's lunch. I want a plate of hot stacks and bacon."

"Dean, they stopped serving breakfast items an hour ago. Besides, I think the windshield should be taken care of before we go eat."

"Agreed," I say, finished priming the glass. "It's about ready. Sam, is the urethane ready."

"Urethane?"

"Okay, I got it," Dean said, grabbing the electric caulking gun. About ten minutes later, the new urethane had been placed. I handed him a pair of latex gloves before we moved the glass to the car. After the windshield was put in place, Dean took another few minutes to check our work.

Satisfied, we left for lunch.

* * *

AN (chap 4): If any of the information about cars, or specifically a 1966 Ford Galaxie, is wrong, please be nice. I know nothing about cars. I did my best and will continue to do my best.

AN (Chap5): I may have gotten some stuff wrong. If I did, please cut me some slack! And yes, I am aware that Sam sounds a teensy bit out of character.


	4. 6 and 7

SIX

I don't know why, but every little thing annoyed me while we were at the restaurant. The waitress' voice, the country music in the background…even Sam and Dean's conversation on a wyndigo sighting in Montana grated me. Did they _have _to talk about their next job?

I pushed this down, choosing to keep quiet.

These bouts of anger keep coming up and again. They're usually brief, lasting only a few minutes at a time while I try to calm down.

I drummed my fingers against the table while we waited for our food.

"Planning on joining a band, Cas?" Dean asked. I stopped drumming my fingers and glared at him. "What's up?"

"Nothing, I'm just on edge a bit."

"On edge? About what? Is something going on here that you haven't told us about?"

"Nothing is going on," I snapped.

"Stage three," Sam muttered into his cup.

"Stage three of what?"

"Grief, Dean."

"For God's sake, Sam, this is not a psychological issue! I'm not in 'grief' over being a human! I've come to accept it."

"Well, good. That doesn't mean that you're not going to be upset by it. I'd be upset if I was stripped of my powers and forced to dwell with creatures that that I'm distantly related to who have customs I don't understand."

"I understand human customs well enough. Better than you assume."

"Really?" Sam asked.

"Yes."

"Let me see your phone."

Unsure what he intended to do, I gave him my phone. He pressed a few buttons on his phone and mine rang in tune with what was heard on Sam's phone until it went to the voice mail:

"_You have reached the voicemail of—I don't understand. Why do you want me to say my name?—Please leave a message after the beep."_

Sam returned my phone.

I glared at the betraying contraption in front of me.

Dean coughed, trying to mask his laughter. He was unsuccessful.

"Dare I bring up the incident of when you watched porn and announced it to us?" Sam added, pocketing his own phone.

"Sam, that was not funny," Dean said, trying to fight the smile on his face down. "That was very awkward moment."

"Then why are you still smiling, Dean?"

Dean silenced, glaring at Sam with his arms crossed.

"There are probably more examples that I don't even know about."

"I got one that keeps coming up: no sense of personal space," Dean added. "I talked to him about it and it still happens."

The waitress returned and set our food in front of us.

"I still understand your customs better than most. There are angels that wouldn't try to integrate into you society," I say, picking up the hamburger in front of me. "At least I get the bathroom custom without explanation."

"Amen to that," Dean said, lifting his beer. Sam and I followed suit and tapped glasses with him. This custom is still strange to me, but otherwise, I understand that it is a traditionally accepted custom when humans are in agreement or enjoying company and only happens around a table during meals.

For about a minute, we chug beer. My ire subsided and I began to enjoy myself again in the company of my friends. My thoughts turn to different things:

Mainly how my Brother could also be my Father. Someone had to have information on how that could be possible. Clearly, Dean and Sam had no knowledge of such a phenomenon. But someone had to. So I asked.

"It's a Christian doctrinal belief," Sam said. "Why are you so interested in it now?"

"Because if it's true, if my Brother _is _my Father, then every angel has indeed seen God without their knowing," I say. "My Brother, Jesus to you, is the first and oldest of the angels. At least that's what I thought he was. I need to know what he is. I was there when he said, after Adam and Eve took the forbidden fruit, that he'd go and rescue humans from themselves. I was there and aided his mission, protecting his worshippers for hundreds of years since. We all did. Whenever our Brother spoke, his word was equivalent to that of God's. But what if he _is _God and is therefore my Father? Have we been deceived?"

Sam and Dean did not answer me. I suppose they're as confused as I am.

"I suppose we can find out," Sam said. Dean shrugged. "We'll visit a priest before heading back to Bobby's."

I agreed to this plan. I need answers and if Sam believes a priest could offer them then I trust his judgment.

SEVEN

We stopped at St. Lambert's Parish Church after lunch.

I slid out of the Impala and walked inside. I did not look back to see if Sam and Dean followed.

The priest was busy praying at the altar. One of the customs of churches like this one is to dip two fingers in holy water and make the sign of the cross where my brother died and conquered Death upon (Death never forgave him for this).

I did not do this. I am not one of my Brothers' "saved."

The priest "crossed" himself, forehead to heart and shoulder to shoulder, and stood. He turned around and smiled at me. "How may I help you, Child?"

"I have questions about…Jesus and his relation to God."

The priest motioned for me to take a seat. I did so.

"I understand that he is God's Son."

"He is."

"But I have recently learned things I had not known before. Primarily that Jesus is both the Son of God and God himself. How is this possible?"

"You're confused by the Trinity. Many newcomers are. It's not an uncommon question. Do you know what is said about the beginning?"

I know what happened, but not what is said. I shake my head.

"'In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.' Jesus is the Word of God. In the Trinity, he is referred to as the second Person, God the Son. The first Person is God the Father. And God the Holy Spirit is the third."

I looked at the priest, confused. I assume he read my confusion.

"The church believes that Jesus was with God at the beginning of Creation, possibly within God or in a heavenly body, both separate and together with God. The same is said of the Holy Spirit, which currently resides in every human's heart whether they know it or not."

And everything became clear.

I jump up. "Thank you. I understand now."

"I'm glad to be of help. Feel free to come back any time."

I did not answer back, but returned to the Impala and slid in the back seat.

"You get your answers?" Dean asked.

"My Brother is my Father. Always has been. My brothers and I only never realized it. He was never my Brother. He's always my Father."

"And how did you figure that out?" Sam asked. We returned to the road and headed back to Bobby's.

"Only four angels that have ever seen God," I tell them. "Only three of them were given wings after they died. These three were once prophets: human prophets. You met two of them: Zechariah and Joshua. The other two are Elijah and my Brother.

"Every angel will agree that our Brother is the first to be in the presence of God and for the longest time he was the one who gave us our orders from the Garden. That lasted for several millennia until Joshua was granted his wings and became the next…conduit, you could say. But that wasn't until after my Brother came to Earth two millennia ago and began his own ministry which grew into what is known today as the Church."

"But Jesus wasn't an angel while on Earth," Sam said. "History dictates that Jesus was a human."

"But you've seen something similar happen before: Anna," I clarified. "She came to earth and allowed herself to become a human to escape us.

"There is a difference though: my Brother did not give up his grace when he became a human, nor was he trying to escape. And I still remember that day: Gabriel told me that he was given a mission by our Brother. He returned a little while later and told me what the mission was. He was sent to deliver a message to a young woman, about thirteen or fourteen years old. A girl who proved herself god-fearing, honorable, chaste, and pledged to be married. She and her fiancé were both descended from a broken line of kings dating back to the same king of Israel."

"You mean King David? The one who defeated Goliath?" Sam asked.

"Yes. I remember that after Gabriel returned, my Brother went missing and Joshua was called to the Garden. When we finally found him, he was inside the very girl that Gabriel had been sent to speak to. She still retained her aura as a virgin and _yet _she was pregnant. No one could explain it other than that our Father had sent our Brother down to fulfill a mission of sorts. Later we learned that the mission was to defeat Lucifer and Death's hold on the humans. They were working together as equals then.

"But when my Brother was crucified, we were certain he had failed until Joshua sent me to let him out of his tomb and tell three very terrified women news that my Brother was alive. Honestly, I didn't even believe it until I also saw him walking in that garden and speak to one of the women I had to tell to quit screaming her head off and listen to what I had to say."

I lean back in the seat, feeling overcome with battling emotions: joy, anger, sorrow…they all were rolling around in my head.

God was in front of me almost every day of my life and I never realized it until now.

I covered my eyes, unable to keep up my stoic pretense any longer. My hands were shaking and my eyes stung with tears of regret. I couldn't rein it in any more. I'm tired of giving the pretense of being stronger than humans. Because I'm not stronger than them. Not anymore.

"I'm sorry, Father, for having ever doubted you. For losing my faith in you," I whispered. "I didn't know. I didn't know you were always with me. Forgive me, Father, for not seeing that I was always in your presence…for being blind and deaf to you."

"Cas, are you okay? You're not having a water show back there, are you?" Dean asked. I couldn't tell if he was anxious or concerned. I nod my head, shielding my face with my hand.

* * *

The **doctrine of the Trinity** is a very confusing for many people, even within the Church. Christians, whether they are "believers" (those who believe, but do not follow) and "followers", refer to God as Triune (three-in-one). While the Three Persons of God (Father, Son, Holy Spirit) are mentioned in the Bible, they are not referred to as the Trinity in the Bible. Much Christian doctrine took years to develop because they wanted it to make as much sense as possible. Even the Bible itself that we have today was cannonized around or over a century after the church was founded. But the Trinity is not saying that God has three different personalities. Rather, it's that God is in three different Persons (what Christians will call it) or manifestations (which may be a more accurate translation) that are both the same and separate. Many will say it sounds like polytheism rather than monotheism and some see it that way. But it's both and neither: it's one God in three different manifestations which symbolize a relationship, mainly familial (Father and Son).

I hope this clears up any questions you have on the Trinity and feel free to ask me some questions. I'll do my best to answer them.


	5. 8 and 9

EIGHT

I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to sleep. I passed the long, dark hours in my room, begging my Brother (or ought I call him my Father? I don't know anymore) to forgive me for my ignorance and show me how I could make up for my pride and foolishness.

But no answer came.

One would think that, after you learn the lesson you were meant to learn, you'd get at least a straight answer.

Yet no answer came.

I became furious and though I wanted to shout and curse, I kept my voice low so not to disturb anyone else in the house.

Near dawn, I realized that discovering that my Brother is my Father was not the lesson I was meant to learn. It was something else.

But what? What lesson am I meant to learn? What is the purpose of turning me into a human?

I fell asleep around dawn.

I dreamt of a meadow. All the trees were green, save three. The first of these trees was gold. The second was bright blood red. The third was whiter than any birch tree I had seen before with silver leaves.*

I woke. Bright sunlight streamed into my room. I groaned and rolled over, extending my arm for the clock on the bedside table.

How is it I overslept?

Why didn't anyone come to wake me up?

Why is my ear ringing?

I head downstairs. They had ordered pizza and were just about to break it apart.

"Welcome to the land of the living, Sleeping Beauty," Dean said, handing me a plate. "What happened last night that you sleep 'til noon? No one could wake you up. I shouted in your ear and you still slept like a rock."

"We thought you died for a little while," Sam said, "and you should thank me for keeping him at bay. He wanted to play a harmless prank, but you seemed pretty upset yesterday."

"I wasn't upset," I lied. It surprised me, coming out of my mouth so smoothly and effortlessly. "I hadn't slept very well over the last few days.

Bobby narrowed his eyes at me. Did he know I was deceiving them?

"Well, we took advantage of the morning to get the back window on your car. So all that's left now, is the paint job," Dean said.

I could have done that myself, but I'm not in any mood to work on the Galaxie. "Thank you," I say, sitting down and taking a slice.

Pizza for breakfast isn't too bad.

"What color are you going for?" Dean asked.

"White," I say after taking a gander at my car. It looks similar to the Impala and I'd like to be able to tell them apart.

Dean opens his mouth and Sam nudges him in the ribs. Dean doubles over, clutching his ribs and glaring at Sam.

The phone rings. Bobby goes to answer it.

"Cas, we were thinking of taking you on our next hunt. What do you think?"

I swallow, thinking about it. "Why not. I could do with a change of scenery."

"Well, good," Bobby said. "There's a string of odd murders happening in Evansville, Indiana. Young children are dying of pneumonia there, but the kicker is that these kids are adults that are turned back into ten year olds."

My interest is peaked. "It's happening again," I say.

"You've heard of this before?"

"These murders used to be exclusively in the Germanic areas of Europe. I never heard of him this far across the ocean."

"Cas, what is it we're dealing with?" Dean asked. "A witch? A demon?"

"Not 'a.' There's only one. It's the Erlkonig*. No one's been able to stop him before. Those who've tried to kill him always die. Many of his victims are angry parents whose children he killed. Only children can see him and if he gets close enough to touch them, he can kill them. It's diagnosed as pneumonia today, but it's much faster working than any disease existing. And he can only kill children, but if he touches an adult, they become vulnerable to his deathly touch."

"You mean he turns grown adults back into kids?" Sam asked.

"Precisely."

"Then let's go kill some pedophile monster," Dean said, finishing his beer. "Cas, fill us in on how to kill this son of a bitch."

I follow him and Sam outside.

"Fire scares him, but no one's been able to defeat him. Only keep it at bay."

"Well, for now, let's focus on figuring out how to catch it and then we'll figure out how to kill it. Is it anything like a ghost?"

"He's similar to fairies, but much worse."

"You really think that he's the only creature of his kind?" Sam asks me before we enter the car.

"Well, no. He has a daughter," I admit. "She's probably worse. I don't know. As far as I know, she's passive. Harmless."

"Then we focus on killing Daddy," Dean said, getting into the car. Sam and I follow suit. The engine revs and we make our way toward interstate 29.

NINE

"Oh, God! Sam, that reeks!" Dean shouted while we were driving over Lee's Summit around eight pm the same day we left. After a while, I could smell it too. I rolled down both back windows and stuck my head outside the one nearest me.

"Sorry, guys," Sam gagged.

"I told you not to have the beans back there," Dean shouted, also poking his head out his window.

We drove like that for about five minutes, everyone sticking their head out the window, until I heard police sirens. I looked behind us.

"Dean, cop."

"Ah, shit. Sam if we get a ticket, you're paying."

"I said I'm sorry."

"I don't care!"

Dean slowed the car to a halt on the road's shoulder. The state patrolman walked up to Sam's window.

"Gentlemen, how are you this fine evening?"

"Good officer, if not for burrito boy stinking up my car," Dean said.

"Have you been drinking, sir?" the officer asked Dean.

"No. They wouldn't let me."

We didn't. Sam and I swore vengeance on him if he drove while under the influence. All the while, _we _enjoyed beer at our dinner back in Kansas City.

"Sir, please exit the vehicle."

We stared at the patrolman. Dean said nothing wrong, so why had he asked for Dean to exit the car?

The officer reached for his gun, his eyes turning black as oil.

We reacted. I pinned the demon to the Impala and Sam stabbed him with the knife in the back of the neck, severing the spinal cord.

The demon shrieked and we had only a dead patrolman on our hands.

"Now was that necessary?"

We turned to face the speaker. Crowley leaned against the cop car, arms crossed and smirking.

"What are you doing here, Crowley?" Dean demanded, reaching for his gun.

"No need for violence, boys. I'm merely wondering how you intend to take down the Erlkonig. Don't give me those shocked looks. I know about him. Can't say why he's in America though. Probably crossed over with all the Eve business we had a while back."

He glanced at me, frowning.

"Something's changed. You're not as frightening as I remember…"

"My powers are gone," I said. I instantly regretted that. Crowley smirked and approached me, staring at me.

"You're a human now, aren't you? Oh this is going to be fun. But how did this happen? Let me guess: daddy gave you a spanking?"

I feel very uncomfortable. I can't tell what Dean and Sam are doing. Perhaps nothing, but I wish they'd do _something_. Even hand me the knife.

Instinctively, I press my palm to Crowley's head. Nothing happened. Crowley swats my hand away.

"Can't smite me anymore, can you, Beautiful?"

Dean pulled Crowley away aiming his gun at his head.

"Oh?" Crowley said, his smirk widening. "Touch a nerve, did I? I _knew _something was going on between the two of you. I just wasn't entirely sure. Anyway, the Erlkonig. I suggest you turn back. That could cause some trouble for all three of you. The Erlkonig will kill you like it did all the other hunters who went after it. Why do you think there's nothing solid on what it is?"

"Why do you care?" Sam asked.

"Because I actually _do _like you, boys," Crowley said. "Deany, make sure to take good care of your partner _and _your brother for me."

Dean froze a moment. I glanced at his face. He looked horrified.

"We're not partners," I say, but Crowley had already left.

"Sam, maybe you could explain to me why everyone seems to think Dean and I are in a homosexual relationship?"

Sam shrugged. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind. You'd make an awesome brother-in-law."

Dean turned on Sam. "You know what, Sam? Fuck you! Let's just get out of here." Dean stormed to the car and entered the driver's side. Sam and I followed and we continued on our way, throwing Crowley's warning to the wind.

After a while, we reached Boonville, Missouri and rented a room at a motel. We stared at the couch and played rock-paper-scissors for the beds.

Dean drew Scissors. Sam and I drew rock.

Dean swore and dumped his bag on the couch.

"Next time, we get another room," he snapped at us.

"Convenience dictates we don't," I answered. Sam snickered.

* * *

"I dreamt of a meadow. All the trees were green, save three. The first of these trees was gold. The second was bright blood red. The third was whiter than any birch tree I had seen before with silver leaves."-No foreshadowing here, just Trinity imagery.

the Erlkonig-Poem by Goethe, son by Schubert during the Romantic Era. There's a more modern version (well, punk rock version) by Achim Reichel. The lyrics are German, but the translation can be found here: http:/ german. about. com/ library/ blerlking. htm (no spaces)


	6. 10 and 11

TEN

I couldn't sleep.

Crowley's taunts kept ringing in the back of my head.

I refused to voice my humiliation.

Having to rely on the Winchesters to get rid of a demon…nothing can put my shame to words.

Excuses had flooded my head but I dismissed them all as invalid and cowardly.

The simple truth is this: I had no weapon on me, I am human, I froze; therefore I was afraid. Of a _demon_.

I despise these weaknesses I'm now encumbered by. If I had my powers, Crowley would not have dared to approach me, let alone talk to me in such a manner!

If I ever get my powers back, I will make him rue the day he sold his soul. No. More than that. I will make him rue the day he was born!

I sat up and stared at the couch.

Dean was up as well. I got up and approached the couch. Dean looked up at me. "Couldn't sleep either?"

"No."

"I'm a bit surprised. You had the other bed." I sit at the table. Dean stares at me from the couch. "Something's up. Your dad again?"

"No," I say.

Dean arches an eyebrow. "Does this have anything to do with Crowley? He's an ass. Forget about what he said. A lot of people have been saying that about us lately. Who gives a crap? It's not true."

Dean had stared at me the whole time, almost unblinking. I stared back for a second. "You aren't so sure anymore, are you?"

Dean turned away, scowling.

The digital clock on the nightstand changed to two AM.

"I suppose I'm not," Dean said after a long silence. "But last I checked, neither one of us are gay. Am I right?"

"Very much so. Then again," I looked at my hands, one of which had a small pale line circling around the ring finger where a wedding band used to be. "Jimmy has a family. A wife and daughter he's separated from. There are days I felt bad about that, but for the longest time, it was necessary. Now, I don't even know if he's here. I haven't felt his presence since I became human. He could be here. He could be in Heaven. I don't know." I look at Dean. "Is it possible for a soul to exist with another in the same body?"

"I don't think so," Dean said. "Wherever Jimmy is, I'm sure he's fine."

I could see my handprint on Dean's shoulder: an angry, dark burn on his skin, like a brand.

For a while, we say nothing. Finally, I say what I wanted:

"Next time we're confronted by Crowley, give me the knife or a gun. I can handle him myself."

"Sorry. I stepped in because you weren't moving," Dean said, smiling. "And he was getting on my nerve. Especially since he…you know."

"Just don't let it happen again."

"Fair enough," Dean said, leaning back in his seat. "Sam's been annoying me about that also. The homo thing."

I laugh a little. Dean stares at me. Again.

"What?"

"You actually have a very nice smile, Cas…I just said something very gay."

"Yes, that was. Thank you though."

"Damn. All this talk about being a homo is _turning _me into a homo!"

"It can't be that bad," I say.

"Oh, it's bad, Cas. I am not gay. I have never been gay. I will never be gay. Hell will have to freeze over first. Pigs will _fly_ first."

"You're rather adamant about it, aren't you?"

"You can bet your halo I am."

"I don't have a halo. Never did."

"Write a complaint to Hallmark then. Good night, Cas." Dean laid down on the couch and refused to get back up.

I don't remember what happened much after that. I suppose we fell asleep where we were, for the next morning, I woke to Sam shaking me awake.

"Subway's next door. Come on, Dean. Food's waiting."

Dean jumped up at the mention of food and raced to the bathroom. "He's eager," I mutter.

"Surefire of way of getting him out of bed: mention food."

"The same works for you, Sam."

"Yeah, but not in the same way it works on Dean."

True. Dean is a specimen of human that reacts to the mere mention of food.

I had never been to a Subway before. I found it quite satisfactory.

"So, how long until we get to Evansville?" I asked.

"Another five hours via I-70 and I-65," Sam answered, staring at a map. "More or less."

"Joy," dean mumbled.

ELEVEN

We arrived at Super 8 that afternoon.

"There is nothing on the Erlkonig, Cas," Sam said, leaning back in his chair, staring, defeated, at his computer. "Are you sure that's what this is?"

"Positive. No one who's encountered him ever lived long enough to write down what they know. All we know is his M.O., what he's afraid of, and that he has a daughter. He's such a mystery that he's been the topic of legends, songs, and poems for generations. He resides in forested areas, so that's where he'd be located."

"Then that narrows our search field down to five, or six," Sam said, leaning back in his chair. "Helfrich and Mesker Park, Lamasco Park, Garvin Park, Wesselman Park Nature center, and the Evansville Country Club."

"I think we can rule out the club," Dean said.

"Agreed."

"He'll want a place heavy with the flow of children," I say, "so best to pick a target who won't easily be missed. The Nature Center is out. Too big, and probably no place for young children."

"That leaves Helfrich, Mesker, Garvin, and Lamesco."

I peered at the map. I took a pen and crossed out the places we already eliminated.

"Mesker Park is a zoo. Animals would tip people off to the Erlkonig's presence. He won't be there. Which also eliminates Helfrich. They're too close together. And Lamesco is too small, but I'd keep it open. We should start our search in Garvin Park."

"Okay," Dean said. "Well, first, let's get some hot dogs. Then, after that, let's see if we can close the park off."

"Why hot dogs?" I ask.

Dean shrugged. "Why not hot dogs?"

Sam shook his head and turned his computer off. We headed to Garvin Park after the brothers dressed in suits. We headed to the park and I allowed the brothers to do their work.

Within an hour, the 80 acre park had been closed off due to "endangered animal" sightings. Several families were seen carrying their screaming children out before we taped off the area with yellow police tape.

We remained in the park well after dusk fell.

"Let's split up," Dean said, pulling out three homemade flame throwers, two extra lighters, and three flashlights. He handed passed them out. "We'll meet up here at dawn or sooner."

We separated ways. I walked to the opposite side of the park until I reached the lake, then I turned my direction right, staring at the glossy water. The moon's eerie reflection was dabbed out when something skipped across the surface.

I aimed the flashlight in that direction. A young woman grinned at me before disappearing into the forest. She was about thirteen or fourteen years old. I didn't get a good look at her.

How did she get inside? I made to chase after her but stopped myself.

_She could be the Erlkonig's daughter_, I thought. I picked up my phone and dialed Sam.

"_Yes?"_

"There's a girl in the park, Sam. She may be a civilian but until there is other proof, I suggest treating her as though she is Erlkonig's daughter."

"_Got'cha."_

I checked behind me. The girl lunged at me—only it wasn't a girl. Did the Erlkonig have a son and not a daughter? I jumped back and lit the flame thrower. The boy shrieked on seeing the fire and ran into the forest again.

"Sam! Sam, it's a boy! He tried to attack me. Keep your guard up!"

"_You okay, Cas?"_

"I'm fine."

A loud scream from Dean's direction stopped me midsentence. I ran toward the sound of Dean's voice and stopped again when I heard another scream in the opposite direction.

They've both been caught?

I headed for Dean first—he was closest. I found him passed out on the ground. I knelt by him and picked him up. He didn't feel the same. His shoulders were narrower, scrawnier. His clothes seemed several sizes too big.

He wasn't shivering. Yet. He hadn't been given the Erlkonig's touch of death.

I looked around, making sure we were not being watched before I hoisted dean into my arms and carried him to where I had heard Sam.

"What…what happened?" Dean asked.

"Not now, Dean. We have to find Sam."

"Cas, why are you carrying me?"

"Not _now_, Dean!" I repeated forcefully. The boy from earlier was kneeling over Sam. I set Dean down and made him hide behind a tree.

"Hey!" I shout. The boy looked at me and grinned.

"Mother!" he shouted, racing toward me. "Mother! Mother!"

I lit the flamethrower again and aimed at the boy. He screamed and ran off in the other direction. I made a grab for Sam, who, like Dean, had been returned to his childhood body. I raced to Dean and grabbed him around the waist, carrying him and Sam under his arm.

"Cas! It's behind us!" Dean shouted. "And it's a chick! Cas, it's a chick!"

I sprinted as fast as I could while carrying Dean and an unconscious Sam.

"Cas!" Dean shouted. He sounded terrified. I picked up my pace again, sprinting, almost flying, across the ground to the Impala. I reached it almost in time and shoved the Winchesters into the car. I seized a spare flamethrower and the lighter Dean gave me earlier.

"Cas! Behind you!" Dean shouted.

* * *

Erlkonig is pronounced "Eh-erl-koo-nig." I didn't add any accent markers. Now as for the change in sexes of the Erlkonig and his daughter, confused yet? :) All will be explained tomorrow.

Also: Misha does have a nice smile. I don't hand compliments like that out unless I mean it.


	7. 12 and 13

TWELVE

I spun around and lit the flame thrower.

I heard a feminine shriek. For a moment, I thought I could see it. A feminine form akin to tree branches.

The Erlkonig ran off. I could still see her son, staring at us through the trees, glaring at me. I climb into the driver's seat. "Dean, give me the keys," I demand. Dean handed me the keys from his jacket pocket.

"Do you know how to drive?" Dean asked, trying to sound calm. His voice still shook and he looked pale in the rearview mirror.

"Yes, Dean, I know how to drive," I say, turning the car on. I had gathered the knowledge over the time I shared memories with Jimmy. The engine revved. "Sit down and keep an eye on your brother. How's he doing?"

"He's okay. I think."

Sam groaned, waking up.

"Yeah. He's okay."

"Good. Stay back there."

"Did we get her?"

"No. I'll come back later and finish her and her son off."

"Cas, I thought you said we were after a dude, not a chick."

"I know what I said. Now sit back. I have a guess and I'll share when we're at the hotel where I'll know you're both safe." At least I hope they'll be safe at the hotel.

I pull into the hotel parking lot and take them inside. Dean sat on the couch pulling his jacket off and laying it down. His clothes now several times too big were sliding off his small body. The same can be said for Sam.

Both had lost their shoes in the escape and their socks fit baggily on their feet. Sam discarded his own clothes until he was only in his shirt. He slid under the covers and fell asleep.

"Sam?" I ask. He had already fallen asleep.

"He used to do that a lot. Especially before grade school. He's probably six years old, maybe five," Dean said, glancing at his sleeping brother. "I never thought I'd be taller than him ever again. I guess dreams do come true." He smirked at me. "You didn't get touched by that kid, Cas. Why?"

"He wasn't able to touch me."

"So why is the Erlkonig a chick and her daughter a dude?"

"I think someone defeated the original Erlkonig and his daughter became the new Erlkonig, killing her father's killer, and she took in a boy, naming him her son. We'll have to kill him first before we kill her. He seems to be the one with the power to turn adults into children again. Then his mother kills them."

I stand and lock the door and the windows.

"Cas?"

"This is just a precaution. They won't come after you or Sam tonight. They know I'm here. They'll wait to get you two alone. Take the bed, Dean."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Dean went to get ready for bed while I kept watch outside. I couldn't see anything beyond the lights. Perhaps I was right that the Erlkonig and her son won't come after us tonight, but what about tomorrow night?

I need more information.

While the brothers slept, I muttered a summoning ritual. After a few moments, I looked behind me. Anna was looking at the brothers.

"I'm glad you came," I say.

"I'm glad you called. Father has returned. So has Our Brother."

"I know," I said. "But that's not why I called."

"It's the Erlkonig, right?"

"Yes. What happened to the first? Was he killed?"

"He was killed several centuries ago. You know how. It is in song: He took the life of a child who was with his father. That father later became a hunter and hunted down the Erlkonig and killed it. His daughter became the new Erlkonig after that and avenged her father on that hunter."

"What about her son?"

"If she dies, he'll take her place as Erlkonig and avenge her death on her killer. He'll start with the Winchester brothers, as he has already touched them."

"Anna, you're telling me what I already know. I need information on the Erlkonig I _don't _have."

"I'm afraid you know as much as I do, then. I am sorry I could not give you something new."

"That is alright Anna," I say, realizing that someone _does_ know what happened all those years ago and could tell me how to protect the Winchester's in this state. "Do you know the name of the hunter who defeated the Erlkonig? It is of import that I speak with him."

"His name, if memory serves, is Siegfried Maier."

I thank Anna and she leaves, allowing me to conduct the ceremony. I had nothing of his, so I softly played Schubert's song on Sam's computer. For a moment, I thought I had woken them, but Dean was just turning over in his sleep.

I recite the Latinate ritual and Siegfried appeared.

THIRTEEN

"Who are you?" he asked. Hearing the music, he scowled. I turned it off immediately.

"I am sorry, but I need your help. The Erlkonig—"

"The Elvermoer, you mean. The Erlkonig is strictly male."

"Yes. Her. She's after my partners. She's already had her son turn them into children."

"You need too ward the room with flowers that grow on sacred trees."

"I have salt."

"Useful against ghosts, fairies, and demons _only_. You are not hunting any of these. You need flowers that grow on a sacred tree."

"Any specific tree?"

"No. Any tree deemed as sacred will do. It must be placed on windowsills and doors. Do this and she and her son will be unable to enter. This will protect them from them. But I suppose you need to know how to kill them."

"Fire scares them."

"Yes. For they are wood fae," Siegfried said. "That will scare them off. But it will not kill them. From the same tree you gather the flowers, file a stake or make a shaft of arrows and aim for the heart. You say she has a son?"

"Yes."

"Lean from my mistake. Kill him first. The transformation from son to beast will be instantaneous if he is overlooked. Also, trust your ears over your eyes, and trust the eyes of a child more than your ears."

With that, I release Siegfried, sending him back to heaven.

Would it be safe to find a sacred tree at that moment? Leave the Winchesters alone unprotected?

I doubted it. So I went to the car and opened the trunk, bringing in three hawthorn stakes, ready for a moment's notice. On returning to the room, I researched trees in area, searching for a sacred tree that bloomed flowers.

Washington Hawthorns grew at Mesker Park.

How was I going to get the flowers in a public park?

I looked at Mesker Park on the map. A zoological garden was located there. I glanced at the boys and smiled.

No one would question a father and his two sons at a zoo. But first things first: I had to get the boys new clothes.

#

"I wanna go to the zoo! I wanna go to the zoo!" Sam shouted jumping up and down on his bed. Dean shrugged, playing a game on his phone.

"Well, then, first we need to get you both new clothes." I say.

"Sam's a six," Dean said. "I'm a twelve. Shoe sizes are two and three point five."

"How do you even remember that, Dean?"

"I was the one who bought our clothes when we were kids, Sam. That's how I know."

I sigh and leave. I doubt the Elvermoer will attack during the day, so I leave the boys at the hotel and head to Wal-Mart.

I collect two pairs of cargo pants for each brother, but I know them well enough to stay clear of the graphic t-shirts, opting for polo shirts for both of them. I select a denim jacket for Dean and a fleece zip-up hoodie for Sam. I felt uncomfortable getting them new underwear, but it was necessary, so that also went into the cart before I headed to find their shoes. Both boys received new socks and one pair of matching shoes.

I left the store quickly, without looking at anyone, talking to anyone, and return to the hotel.

"Here," I say, putting the shopping bags on the couch.

Sam and Dean lunge at and divide the clothes among them. Ten minutes later, the boys are dressed and we're heading out to breakfast.

The day, at least, is nice enough to go the zoo.

"We'll still hunt the Erlkonig, right Cas?" Sam asked after dinner.

"Yes," I say. "But we have something to pick up at the zoo, first."

"What's that?" he asked, staring at me.

"Hawthorn flowers. We'll need them."

"I thought you didn't know much about the Erlkonig," Dean accused.

"I did a little more research. We need flowers of a sacred tree."

"Why flowers?" Sam asked.

"They'll protect you and Dean from her. They go on the door frame and windowsills. I hope that if you wear then somewhere on your person, they'll repel her and her son as effectively."

"And if they don't?" Dean asked.

I had hoped he would not ask that. I have no answer for him. How am I supposed to answer that?

"Finish your breakfast," I say, staring out the window.

* * *

Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. Much appreciated.


	8. 14 and 15

FOURTEEN

We arrive at the zoo around ten o'clock. I hand the receptionist $25 dollars for our admission and the hand stamps.

Sam almost ran off the moment we entered, if not for Dean grabbing his hood and pulling him back.

"Sam, stay with the group," I say.

"Sure, _Dad_," Sam mutters.

Dad?

I suppose that's my cover.

We walk toward the North American exhibit and walk around there, staring at the bobcats, bald eagles, grey wolves, and prairie dogs. Why they are called dogs, I do not know. They look more like squirrel-gopher hybrids.

We leave the area for the African Rift on the other side of the lake. The boys watched the giraffes eat for a moment before growing bored and finding the lemur forest.

Still no tree, though the boys wanted to stay and watch the lemurs groom each other. I promised them we'd come back and they could look at the lemurs more after we found a hawthorn tree.

Even then, they spotted the lion's plaza and ran in that direction afterward. I suppose this is the point of zoos: letting your kids run from cage to cage to gawk at imported animals, but we were here on business and the sooner I found that tree and put a flower or two in their pockets, the better.

"Why aren't the lions doing anything, Dean?" Sam asked.

"Cuz their big cats and all cats are lazy."

"They're so huge!"

"Whoa! Look at that one! She's moving!"

"How do you know it's a she?"

"She doesn't have a mane."

I stare at the brothers. Had they forgotten everything they knew as adults? Were they entirely turned into children again? I looked around and through a window I spotted it: a hawthorn tree.

I pulled the brothers aside. "Dean, Sam, I found the tree. We can come back as soon as we get those flowers."

"Okay," they said, following me out.

We reached the tree and I ripped a few flowers off, handing a stem to Dean who put it in his pants' pocket.

"Where's Sam?" I ask.

Dean's eyes widen and he looks around. Sam is talking to a woman and her teenage son.

"Sam!" Dean shouts. Sam turns around and looks at us. He returns his attention to the woman who pats his head and he runs to us.

I place a second stem in Sam's hand and he puts it in his jacket pocket.

"Can we go into the Discovery Center?" Sam asked. I oblige and we stay there for about half an hour while the boys stared at each caged creature.

When we leave the center and head toward the Key Building, where Dean wanted to see the nocturnal exhibit, Sam was beginning to tire. I glanced at him once and seized Dean's shoulder.

"What is it?" He asks. I kneel down to Sam's height and press my hand against his forehead. His skin is so cold and yet he's burning a fever and his lips are blue.

"Sam are you feeling okay?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "My head hurts, so does my chest and throat." I hoist him into my arms.

"Dean, keep up," I say, jogging to the medical center. Dean runs after me.

"I need help!" I shout, entering the clinic, "My son's sick!"

A doctor rushed to us and took Sam out of my arms, setting him down on a bed.

"When did the symptoms arise?"

"Just now," Dean answers, "out the blue."

"Hey, Buddy," the doctor said. Sam looked at him. "Can you tell me what you're symptoms are?"

"Pneumonia," he said. "They're consistent with Pneumonia."

"Don't worry, bud, it might not be," he said, but I can see that he's scared.

Dean and I sit while the doctor and two nurses try to conclude Sam's diagnosis as something other than pneumonia.

After fifteen minutes, the doctor approaches us as one of the nurses picks up a phone.

"We're calling an ambulance to take your son to the hospital."

I nod my head. Dean jumps out of his seat and sits by Sam. What he's saying to his brother, I don't know. The doctor tells me what we already know: that he's contrived a fast-paced form of pneumonia that's been infesting the city over the last month affecting children.

Ten minutes pass. I'm not sure if I'm passing the role of father as well as I ought to, but I try.

The medics come and carry Sam out.

"I want to go with him," Dean said to the medics.

"Sorry, Kid. Stay with your dad. We'll take care of your brother."

Dean watched as they loaded Sam into the ambulance. I grabbed his arm and dragged him to the Impala so we could follow Sam.

FIFTEEN

"You said the flowers would work!" Dean shouted at me back at the hotel. Sam was admitted into the pediatrics' ward for round-the-clock monitoring. "You said they'd protect us from her!"

"Sam was touched before I gave him the flowers, Dean," I say calmly.

"You said she'd stay in Garvin!"

"I said no such thing. She is able to leave her dwellings as she pleases."

"You also said the animals would know if she was near!"

"It was a guess based on past experience. When a supernatural entity is near, most animals react quicker than humans do. They used to react negatively toward my presence. I didn't know they wouldn't react in hers or her son's."

"But you said—"

"I know what I said!" I shout.

Dean backs down, sitting on the bed.

I take a breath, trying to calm down. I regret yelling at him. "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm scared too, but we don't have much time and I'm not going to explain my mistakes to you while your brother's life is on the line."

Dean bowed his head and brought his knees up to his face, hiding his tears from me. It's so hard to forget that he is an adult trapped in the body and mentality of a ten year old boy. I sit by him and let him cry, patting his back awkwardly. I'm not sure how this is supposed to work.

"Dean, she may still be at the zoo, but I doubt it. She followed us and waited for an opportunity to get one of you alone. She'll be after you now, so I'll need your help to stop her and her son."

Dean looked up and nodded, determination on his face. "What do we do?"

"Wood of a holy tree," I said, holding up the stakes. "Same as the flowers we use. I'm not sure why it matters to be the same wood, but that is what my research told me. We have hawthorn stakes and hawthorn flowers. Aim for the heart. We'll return to Garvin Park at dusk. In the meantime, Dean, you need to eat something and try to get some sleep."

"Why?"

I think of what to tell him and opt for, "Because you will need your strength for tonight."

Dean looks at the food on the table. He sits down and picks up a cheeseburger. As he eats, I sharpen the stakes until I'm convinced they will stab through to the heart of the Elvermoer and the Elvermoer's Son. I check the state of the flowers in my own pocket. I make a note to give another twig to Dean, in case the flower I gave him had been crushed since this morning.

The next few hours were quiet as Dean slept.

Around four o'clock I woke him so we could go and visit Sam before returning to Garvin Park.

I packed their old clothes as a precaution. If we were successful in defeating the Elvermoer, the Winchesters would need a change of clothes.

Dean whispers in Sam's ear and pats his hair down while I set his clothes on his bedside table.

Sam is hooked up to heart monitor and an IV drip. His mouth is covered by a breathing tube and mask. He is comatose.

I worry about his state of mind more than his bodily state.

How much weaker are his defenses against his memories of Hell in this state? How vulnerable is he?

I was a fool for breaking the defenses he had! And for what? To be stripped of my powers for challenging a power that I ought not to have challenged in the first place? Nothing is worse than what I had done.

Sam is in the hospital because of my stubbornness and pride. Any consequences to Sam's mental state this job takes will be on my head.

Ready to go, Dean?" I ask.

Dean nods. "We'll be back, Sam." We left the room and returned to the Impala.

"Now what? Dinner, then Wood creature killing?"

"Only if you're hungry."

"I am. I'm gonna rip them apart."

"You won't need to."

"They went after my brother. I'll decide what needs to be done, Cas."

I don't argue and pull up at a restaurant before we go to the park. The sun just sets when we get there.

"So we split up?" Dean asked as we entered the park.

"No," I say, remembering the other piece of advice Siegfried gave me: _trust the eyes of a child over your ears_. "I need you to be my eyes, Dean."

"Okay," Dean said slowly. "Do we have a plan?"

"I thought you liked improvisation."

"I do, but that didn't go so well last time."

I think for a moment, a plan forming in my mind. It may not work, in which case, we'll need a backup plan.

I whisper the two plans to Dean, so not to be overheard, before gathering what we would need for both.

* * *

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far! Some comments have been made that I'd like to answer, but were left unsigned, so I couldn't reply to you privately. Anyway:

To Ima: I learned to pronounce it that way. But it's true, I don't know how to speak German, so it's very likely I'd botch the pronunciation. Any Germanic language is a pain, I suppose (including English...at least to those who don't speak it.)

To DDValentine: Yes, I believe that angels do understand the Trinity better than humans. Yet in SPN, the angels are so terribly flawed! They have hostile take overs, they incite war, etc. Even Gabriel is flawed (though he is by far the best angel in the series :3). "Only four angels have seen God" is what really annoyed me and inspired me to make it so they don't get the Trinity, though not as much as Cas trying to become God. SPN makes angels out to be almost human to the point where they might as well be human. Because of these flaws, I highly doubt the SPN angels would quickly grasp the Trinity doctrine, though once they did, it'd make total sense.


	9. 16 and 17

SIXTEEN

I waited outside the perimeter, keeping an eye on Dean, who stood still in the park center, hands in his pockets. I kept the weapons, ready to throw one to Dean in case the Elvermoer or her son showed.

After a while, a rustling came from behind Dean. The Elvermoer's Son slinked toward Dean. I tossed the stake to Dean. He caught it and spun around slamming the stake into the startled boy's chest. The boy drops dead and Dean races toward me.

The moment he is out of the perimeter, the Elvermoer has entered and sees her son. She shrieks and kneels at his side.

"MEIN SOHN!" she shrieks, picking up the bloody naked corpse of her son. "MEIN ERICH!"

Dean lights the perimeter and the Elvermoer tries to run. The fire is too fast for her and she is trapped.

She spots us on the other side of the fire.

"CASTIEL!" she shrieks at me.

I furrow my brow. I have no recollection of ever crossing paths with the Elvermoer or her father the Erlkonig. So how does she know my name?

"Du verfluchter made! Der junge stirbt! Ich werde dafür sorgen, dass sie!"(1)

How she knows my name is the least of my worries now.

"Cas, do you know her? What is she saying?"

I shake with furry. "Der junge wird zum Mann erneut. Sie haben keinen Anspruch auf sein leben. Ihr werdet alle sterben heute abend für alle ihre Verbrechen,"(2) I tell her.

"Wait, you speak German?" Dean asks.

"I can speak all the languages of the world, Dean. I may be human, but nothing about my intellect has changed."

The Elvermoer laughed, still holding her son. "Sie drohen mir? Die Erlkonig Tochter? Lernen Sie ihren Platz, Mensch."(3)

"Es gibt einen Unterschied zwischen einem Menschen und einem Engel. Möglicherweise habe ich meine Kräfte verloren, aber ich bin noch immer ein Engel Gottes."(4)

"Speak English, Bitch!" Dean shouted at the Elvermoer.

She approached us as far as she dared before throwing her son's body onto the flames. She walked across it and smirked at us.

She jumped at Dean, hands stretched out, ready to touch him. I seized another stake and jumped in front of Dean. The Elvermoer halted and stared at the stake, wondering if she'd be able to get around me to Dean.

In her moment of hesitation, Dean stole the third stake from behind me and tackled her, his clothes protecting him from her touch. The stake made a sickening crunch against her chest. With a shriek, she shriveled into compost.

Dean stood, still a child. I blink once and he's an adult.

I hand him the bag with his clothes and he changes behind a tree.

"Why didn't you tell anyone you speak German?" Dean asked. "Damn! Remind me never to get turned into a kid again. These things give people an awful wedgie."

"Most people don't dare to try wearing children's clothes. And I didn't think my multilingual knowledge was of any import. Also, I thought it'd be obvious. I understand the most archaic of languages. Why shouldn't I understand modern ones?"

"Fine, fine. Ha! I got them off! I am lord of the underwear!"

"Go ahead and tell the whole world you're wearing children's underwear, Dean," I mutter sarcastically.

"I was worried these would have to be removed surgically. You don't understand how happy this makes me."

"Just finish getting dressed, Dean. We still have to get your brother and get out of here before questions are asked as to what happened to my 'sons.'"

"Right. We should have said you were our babysitter," he said, walking out from behind the tree, pulling his jacket back on. We return to the car. I return Dean's keys and we head to the hospital.

Sam is outside, waiting for us, a scowl on his face. He climbs into the back seat before we could make a full stop.

"Don't ask, just drive, now."

"Glad to see you're awake, Sammy," Dean said. We left the hospital and checked out of the hotel.

"I remember going to the zoo," Sam muttered. "After that, nothing."

"You got sick with Erlkonig bad pneumonia."

"That would explain why I was in the pediatrics ward," he said, holding his head in his hands. "Never again. I don't want to turn into a kid again! That was painful."

"Were you able to get the underwear off?" Dean asked, smirking evilly at Sam.

"Shut the fuck up. I will kill you, Dean. I swear to God, I will kill you."

"Lay off the swearing," I snap. "We got here before anyone noticed, didn't we? If anything, you ought to be thanking us, Sam, for saving _your ass_."

"Shut up, Cas. I had to explain to the nurse…ugh."

Dean and I exchange a glance, agreeing not to press the issue and let Sam worry.

SEVENTEEN

"It's nice to just be doing a job," Dean said, spinning around on the wheeled chair, staring at the ceiling. "No impending doom. No demon trying to unleash a plethora of other demons. No apocalypse to avert. No demons…Just plain, honest, jobs."

"Listen to this," Sam said, from the kitchen table. "Mystic Girl Crosses Dimensions." Sam read the article. I walked over to the computer and peered at the screen.

"She's possibly an Emere," I suggest.

"A what?" Dean asked.

"A human with spiritual abilities to travel between Heaven and Earth. They're usually troublesome. At least they used to be."

"So you want us to go and hunt her?" Dean asked, horrified.

"No," I snap. "She's not _that _kind of dangerous. But she can be if unguided. If Crowley hears about her, he'll want to use her. A girl with that power can be swayed either way."

"So, to…"

"Harlowton, Montana," Sam said. He turned to Dean. "What were you saying about 'no demons?'"

"Shut up."

"Well, she might be or she might not be," I say. "It's still worth looking into." I gander at the picture of the young teenage girl, and I hope I am wrong. Perhaps she is only a psychic. Still "crossing dimensions" sounds immensely like an Emere to me.

#

We rent two rooms at the Corral Motel. It's a single story establishment, with a neon sign pointing inward. We check the rooms. Both rooms had two queen beds, so I take one room while the brothers take the other.

We meet up again outside to head for dinner and discuss a plan to approach the girl.

We head to Café Chinook.

"Hello, boys," the surly waitress said, pouring water into our glasses. "What brings you to our sweet little town?"

"We're mystic aficionados," Dean said, giving her a dazzling smile.

"You're here to see Sarah Ann Carter?"

"Indeed we are, Ma'am," he said, still grinning. He pulls Sam into a hug. "In fact, my brother's a mystic himself."

Sam and I stare at Dean in disbelief. What is he playing at? Sam's not a mystic.

"We used to have our own little place down in Omaha."

"Well, I'm sorry boys, but Sarah been hassled enough. Some other aficionados tried to convince her to go with them to Las Vegas for a show. They were shady so I told them to beat it or I'd call the police. I can't let you in to see her."

"You're Sarah's mother?" Sam asked.

"Yes sir," she said, handing us our menus. "And I wanted to keep her abilities a secret. It was her fool Daddy who insisted we go public. If you like you can come to a show," Mrs. Carter didn't seem so happy about letting us into see her daughter's performance. "But I can't allow more than that."

"Seeing the show will be good enough for us, right guys?"

"Yeah," Sam said.

I shrugged.

Mrs. Carter smiled at us and left, allowing us to review the menu.

"Demons?" Dean asks.

"It might not be," I say. "We don't know enough information about who came to see Sarah to draw a conclusion."

"For all we know, they _are _from Las Vegas," Sam added. "Thing is, Las Vegas isn't really a place for kids. Sarah's about thirteen or fourteen years old. Way too young to perform in Vegas."

"So either demons or perverts," Dean summarizes.

"Exactly," Sam said, "in which case, we may be protecting her whether she's an Emere or not." I arch an eyebrow. I don't understand the point of staying if she's not in danger of demons. "We might have to Cas. Supernatural creatures aren't the only dangers out there."

"Fine," I say, opening my menu and searching for something to eat. The brothers follow suit. Mrs. Carter returns after a few minutes and we recite verbatim what we'd like.

"May we ask when your daughter's next show is?"

"It's tonight," she said, "but today's show is almost sold out. So is tomorrow's. The day after has a few open slots."

"Thank you, Ma'am, we'll get our tickets right away. Can't wait to see your daughter's show. I'm sure she's a natural," Dean said, flashing his winning grin again.

"Careful, boy," she said, "a lot of young ladies would fall a smile like that. The charm on you, I'm surprised you ain't married."

"Actually, he's his partner," Sam said, pointing at me briefly.

Dean and I glare at Sam.

Mrs. Carter blushes a little. "Well, I'm sorry, sir," she said to me, "I didn't mean nothing by it."

"It's fine."

"They're engaged," Sam adds, grinning toothily. "Wedding's in a few months."

_Keep digging your grave, Sam_, I think. _Just keep digging_.

* * *

The German (I cannot guarantee accuracy. I apologize for any mistakes the online translator made):

1. You miserable maggot! The boy dies! I will ensure it!

2. The boy will become a man again. You have no claim to his life. You will die tonight for all your crimes.

3. You threaten me? The Erlkonig's Daughter? Learn your place, human.

4. There is a difference between a human and an angel. I may have lost my powers, but I am still an angel of God.


	10. 18 and 19

EIGHTEEN

We snuck in through the back and watched Sarah Carter's performance.

She was dressed in bright, solid colors. Her eyes had been covered with a cloth. She would call people from the audience to come up and have their fortune read or to communicate with a loved one.

Perhaps I was wrong about this girl being an Emere.

But I was convinced that I was right toward the end of the performance when she slumped into her chair, head back, spasming, and gagging. The audience was taken aback, murmuring and wondering if they ought to call an ambulance. A rasping voice emitted from her throat:

"_Castiel, Angel of Thursday," _she croaked. _"I can see you. I beg you. The king of hell is after me. HELP ME!"_

She stilled, passed out in her chair. Dean and Sam looked at me, shocked. We leave.

"You don't have your powers. And her eyes…how did she know you're here?"

"I'm more concerned with how she knows who you are," Sam said, climbing in to the front passenger's seat. Dean and I also entered the car.

"I am unsure myself," I say. "But that was the Emere inside her. That's where she gets her powers."

"Cas," Dean said, turning the car on. "What exactly are Emere?"

"Spirit-human hybrids," I say. "They have a corporeal body, but the spirit is unattached to it. It's a vessel with no soul and the Emere gives the vessel a soul and a life. Usually children born as Emere are more powerful than witches."

Dean shudders and we enter the road, heading back to the motel.

"But they don't practice witchcraft. They're commonly known as mystics and psychics who excel in astral projection. Sometimes, they go into trances like that when the spirit is about to leave the body and go to heaven. But in this case, the spirit recognized who I am and spoke to me. I don't know why, so I can't elaborate."

"What exactly do they do rather than psychic hoodoo?"

"They're sort of like conduits on Earth that can go to heaven, but not Hell. They tend to cause trouble on Earth because they prefer Heaven—"

"So they cause trouble," Dean said, "not much different than the usual ghost." He

"They _are _different from usual ghosts. They're bones are living. We can't kill them without killing the human. And we're not going to force her to move on. You heard what she said: Crowley is after her. He'll use her as a spy. That's why the legions of Hell have been interested in Emere for millennia."

"Then we call Crowley and have a few," Dean said. "Got any ideas, Sam?"

Sam leaned forward, placing his head between his knees. Dean glances at him briefly.

"Sammy?"

"I'm fine," he moaned, "Just a little light headed."

I'm not convinced.

Sam sits up, "What were we talking about?"

"Summoning Crowley."

"Okay, sure. I'll get the ritual set up if one of you guys will get the Devil's Trap ready."

"No, Sam, I'm sure we can handle it ourselves. You need to rest," Dean says. "You think so too, Cas?"

"Sam, are you sure you're okay?" I ask, ignoring Dean. "Have you been hallucinating?"

Sam scoffs, smiling. He shook his head. "No. I'm fine, Cas."

He's lying to me, but I don't call him out.

"You sure you guys can handle it on your own?"

"Me and the Angel? Yeah, I think we got it, Sam. Get some sleep, we'll do the ritual in Cas' room so you're not disturbed."

Sam smirks. "Okay. If you wanted time alone, all you had to do was say so."

"Sam! If you keep pushing it, I swear I will push you out of this car!"

Sam arches an eyebrow. "How are you going to do that?"

"I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it?"

"Fratricide, Dean? I didn't know you had it in you."

"That's not what I mean!"

I sit back and let the brothers argue, not caring what they say, so long as they don't drag me into the middle of their argument.

On arriving back to the hotel, Sam is sent to bed. Dean brings what we need into my room. I prepare the ritual while Dean draws the Devil's Trap.

An hour later, Dean chants the spell and Crowley shows.

He stares at us angrily then looks down at the trap.

"Bugger all!" he shouts. "What's this about? I hadn't done anything!"

"No, but you're thinking it," Dean said, smirking.

NINTEEEN

Crowley glared at Dean, enraged. "Thinking about what?" he demanded.

"The Emere," I say. Crowley stares at me, his facial muscles relaxing into an expression of stupor which makes me wonder if he knew about her at all. "You _do _know about the Emere?"

"No! I've never even heard of a bloody Emere living in…" Crowley looked around and peered outside. "The middle of nowhere."

"Montana," Dean clarified.

"Montana, the middle of nowhere, same difference," Crowley snapped. "Let me guess: she told you two love birds I'm after her. I'm not. I have no need for an Emere to know what's going on upstairs: God's back, let the angels rejoice while my careful planning on Earth goes up in smoke! Oh, and Michael's back in heaven and in time out for jumpstarting the apocalypse, and your baby brother's doing fine. I'll let him know you're thinking of him. But most of all: you interrupted me in the middle of a very important appointment for nothing!"

"Maybe you know who's after her then," Dean asked. "Someone came and tried to convince her and her parents that she could get a show in Las Vegas."

"Well, it certainly wasn't me," Crowley snapped. "Maybe it was a pedophile. Or maybe, _just maybe_, a talent agent is just a talent agent. Now will you let me out? The Devil's Trap is rather unnecessary."

"I disagree," I say. "The last time we met, you got a little too close for comfort, Crowley."

"Oh? Touched a nerve, have I?" Crowley asked, smirking. "The two of you are still in blissful denial, aren't you?"

Dean seized the holy water and splashed Crowley. He shrieked, trying to dry himself off.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Bring it up again and I'll send your ass back to Hell," Dean growled.

"'I think the lady doth protest too much,'" Crowley quoted.

"No," Dean shouted. "No, I protest quiet enough."

"Of course you do," Crowley muttered. "Threatening to shoot me between the eyes, splashing blasted holy water all over me…no, that's perfectly reasonable."

"Actually it's rather logical," I said, "You are a demon."

"I am a demon with honor, Castiel. I recall a deal we had and the one who went back on it was _not _me. So, out of the two of us, Angel, _who's_ more trustworthy?"

I had no answer for that. I glare at Crowley, fists clenched.

Crowley smirks. "Nothing to say on your behalf, Castiel?" He has me by the "short and curlies." And he knows it.

"Well, all right," Crowley said, hand behind his back. "I promise you on the blood of babes I am _not _after the Emere. And I'll leave her be. Just do one little thing for me. Or for your fans. The ones of that novel series the prophet wrote. Prove to me you have no interest in each other. Just a little kiss."

"Crowley, I don't advise you do that," I say, glancing at a very livid Dean, readying his arm to throw holy water at Crowley again.

"I dare you," Crowley says. Dean pauses. "No, scratch that: I double dare you. I _triple dare_ you."

"All right! Fine."

I furrow my brow at Dean. "We don't have to."

"It's a triple dare, Cas. We have to follow through with a triple dare."

"Why?"

"Because, Angel, it would be an act of cowardice not to."

Yes. That does put it into perspective. And I am no coward. However, looking at Dean, knowing this debate has been pressed on us from several angles in several ways—from enemies and allies—why shouldn't we put the theory to the test?

Dean knelt slightly down to my height. His hand pressed my chin, forcing my head up. Our lips met. Briefly, for a second or two, I suppose, we kissed. We broke apart and Crowley clapped.

"Well done, gentlemen," he said, "Now please, can I go now?"

"Fine," Dean said, taking a knife and scratching the Devil's trap until there was a small gap. Crowley stepped out.

"Invite me to the wedding, will you, when you get a date."

I barely heard him.

He vanished.

Kissing Dean was an entirely different experience from when I kissed the demon Meg. Dean still knelt at the trap, holding the knife in his hands. I could see it twirling between his fingers.

"The Emere may have played us, but she still has a reason to want Crowley dead," I said. "We should try and talk to her tomorrow. Ask her why she wants Crowley dead. He's an ass and can be dangerous when he likes, but overall…Dean, are you listening?"

"Yeah," Dean said, standing. He set the knife down on the table with the other items we have. "Cas, I have a confession to make."

"Okay." I approach the table. Dean's cheeks are a little red. "What is it you want to tell me, Dean?"

Dean turned his gaze from the table to me. "Cas, I love you."

* * *

The moment we have all been waiting for has FINALLY ARRIVED! *dances joyously*


	11. 20 and 21

TWENTY

Something about the way he said "I love you" indicated to me that he meant "I'm_ in_ love with you."

There was no way of mistaking it. I've watched many humans say that small, meaningful phrase so often that I learned that it could mean different things based on how it is said.

Some say it out of breath after predicament, meaning "thank you." Some say it goofily, meaning "you won't regret it." Some say it in a way that means "you're my friend and I'd never intentionally hurt you."

But it's most prominent meaning is "I'm in love with you."

But how does one answer, "I love you"? I've seen varied answers: "I love you too" is what is heard the most.

But what do one say when they are unsure if they are in love with the one who is in love with them?

"Night, Cas," Dean said, walking past me to the door. The lock clicks behind him and I see him head to his and Sam's room.

My mind is spinning. I feel obligated to give Dean an answer. But I don't know what my answer is. Warnings flash in the back of my head and yet…

I don't care. I remove my trench coat, leaving it on the chair. I sit at the edge of the bed and think. My father's followers have been known to be adamantly against relationships of certain caliber, such as what my relationship with Dean may progress to.

Still, my own take is indifference to sexual orientation.

And yet again, I find myself wondering, why me? There are several things that could have happened between me and Dean that led to those words.

I pulled him out of Hell.

That couldn't be it.

He didn't even know it was me then.

But what about since we met for the first time three years ago? No. Maybe in less time than that. Since he was pulled back into the Hunter's World?

Yet he was violently against it until now. Why?

Crowley and Sam both forced us into these roles, whatever they may be.

I should be furious.

Shouldn't I?

But I'm not. They knew before Dean did. Before _I _did.

Finally, I am able to name the emotions I'm feeling:

Relief from a fear I didn't know I felt. Happiness for an emotion I didn't know I had.

As Dean Winchester is in love with me, I am in love with Dean Winchester.

I glance outside at the dark night sky, lit only by lampposts, and I ponder.

Do I tell him now? Would Dean be asleep or would he be awake? If he's asleep, do I wait until morning to tell him I am in love with him?

I feel the moment has passed and slipped out of my fingers. It will have to wait until another opportune time arose.

"How are you doing, Castiel?"

I turn toward the voice. My Brother is leaning against one of the walls.

"Why are you here?"

"To see how you're doing. Why ought I not see how one of my sons are?"

"You never dared."

"Angels have never been human before. Not without severing themselves from their grace first."

"You are all knowing," I say. I am afraid, but I have to know the truth: "Have you come to condemn me?"

"Condemn you?" My Brother sounds horrified. "That is not why I am here. I am not responsible for what prophets think. I give them a standard of what to write. They get everything down, that's what counts. If it was possible for my books to be without opinion, they'd be easier to follow. But humans are opinionated and the opinions of others have been misleading and directs other humans to take on hostile actions I disapprove of. My message and my command to all of my children, angels and humans, has always been love."

"If you are not here to condemn me, why are you here?"

"How is it that one of my most faithful angels fell so hard and forgot who I am?"

"I did not forget. You were not around."

"You forgot. And I _was_ around. I still am." My Brother stares at me intently. "Castiel, is this about Dinah? Or is it about Dean?"

I stand and stride over to My Brother, seizing the knife. I pin him to the wall, the knife to his throat. I know I can't kill him. He has transcended death.

Yet He had no right. None! No one had dared mention Dinah to me in millennia.

"You were the one who gave the order to kill them! You killed _her_!"

My Brother did not move at all. He displayed no fear, though I sensed remorse. "I know you loved her, Castiel. I am sorry for having brought up a painful memory. I promise you it will not happen again. If you wish to be with Dean, I will allow it so long as you are human. It is a fairer option than before."

My Bother gently pushed me back, but I felt as though I had been forced by a great gust of wind.

"Good luck with the Emere. You'll need it."

He vanished, leaving me to let the anger within me simmer.

TWENTY-ONE

The morning came faster than I had expected. I woke to a car honking. I got out of bed and looked outside. Dean honked the car horn again, a mischievous grin on his face.

I groan and get dressed, still slightly groggy. I barely slept. I leave the room and slide into the back seat.

"Why is he so happy?" I ask Sam.

Sam shrugged. "How'd last night's summoning go?"

"Well enough," I say. Dean would not want to prove Sam right. At least not right away. Especially if it was Crowley who made us face the truth.

"And?" Sam pressed on.

"And what?"

"Is Crowley after Sarah?"

"Sarah?"

"The Emere."

"Oh. No, he's not after her. She tricked us. It happens. Which means we're dealing with something else."

Sam nodded his head. "Now was that so hard to say, Dean?"

"I said I'd tell you after we ate. I'm starving!"

"Do you always think with your stomach?"

"Don't deny it," Dean said, "you do it too. So does Cas."

"No I don't." I don't. Stomachs are incapable of thinking. I thought that was rather obvious.

"Cas," Dean said, "We are human. We are men. We think with our stomachs—especially when our stomachs are empty."

Sam sighed. "That was a bad argument."

"That's because it's not an argument. It's a fact."

"Sam," I mutter, "Dean's too happy. I don't think I've felt fear of this caliber before." Dean burst out laughing. Sam was trying hard to laugh also, but failed miserably.

I don't understand what I said that is so funny. Yet the brothers keep laughing as we pulled into the café parking lot.

The brothers are still laughing when I exit the car, though calming down. I knock on Dean's window and give them a rude gesture with my finger. They start laughing again. I let them calm down again, entering the café.

Mrs. Carter is at the register, talking to a young girl, dressed in ragged jeans and a soft blue blouse. For a moment, I double take.

I'm imagining things and dismiss what I thought I saw. I take a seat at one of the booths. Another waitress comes and offers me coffee, which I take. Anything to wake up.

Sam and Dean join me after a moment. They're still smiling, but otherwise much calmer than before.

"Sorry, Cas," Sam said, "We shouldn't have laughed."

"I'm just in a good mood, where's the weird in that?" Dean asked.

I don't elaborate. The waitress returns and hands them menus. The girl who was talking to Mrs. Carter comes up to our table.

"Did you do as I ask?" She demanded, her yellow pony tail draping over her shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

"Did you get rid of the King of Hell?" We stare at the girl, perplexed at her daring. "You didn't, did you? What kind of hunters do you call yourself? And you," she turns on me. I pick up my coffee. "Why didn't you make sure that they did the job I gave them?"

"Miss Carter," I say setting the cup down. "You're in no position to give us any orders. Just tell us who is after you."

"The king of hell."

"It's not him. We checked," Dean said. "He didn't even know you were here. Nor is he interested in you."

"So I wanted you to get rid of him. Who wouldn't? Now he does know. He might come after me now thanks to you!"

"Who is really after you, Sarah?" Sam asked. "Your mother mentioned people from Las Vegas."

"They were the real deal. My dad tried to get a contract with them without my mom knowing about it. She thought it was a stunt."

"So you're not in any danger?"

"Not yet. But I might be now."

Sam wrote down something on a napkin. "If you are in danger, _real_ danger, you can call that number and we'll come help. But Sarah, we're not going to stay if there's no case."

"Caleb said you'd say that."

I almost choked on the coffee. "What did you say?" I demanded. I could feel my blood freeze.

"Caleb," she said. "The Emere inside me is named Caleb."

* * *

*sigh* Dinah and Caleb. Yes. Cas knows them. It was something that just came out when I wrote this chapter. It wasn't supposed to happen, but it did and I decided to go with it anyway...you'll see why later.


	12. 22 and 23

TWENTY-TWO

"We don't know any Caleb," Dean said.

"But he knows Castiel," Sarah said, "So I'm guessing Castiel knows him."

The brothers look at me. "I knew several people named Caleb," I tell them. "The Emere could be any Caleb I've come across."

"No," Sarah said. "Not just any Caleb. You know who I'm talking about." She glances over her shoulder. "I'll explain more after school. Just, please, don't leave yet. That's all I'm asking. I'll meet you after school at your hotel."

I glance at the brothers. Are they considering it? I can't tell. If it were up to me, we'd leave after breakfast.

"Alright," Sam said. "We'll give you an hour after school. But after that, we're leaving."

Sarah squealed and latched her arms around Sam. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She chirped. She released him and grabbed her backpack from the ground. "You won't regret it!"

"We better not," Dean muttered as she ran out. "Please tell me her attitude is just hers?"

"It's not," I say. "Emere are known for their impatience and attitude."

"And Caleb?"

"It could be anyone. The Emere may either be lying about the spirit's identity of it may be who she says it is. And if it is," the waitress returns to get our orders. We ask for more time and she leaves. "If it is, then Sarah might be, strangely enough, the reincarnation of my son."

Dean almost spits out his coffee. Sam's eyebrows jump to his hairline.

"Son?" Sam asked.

"I thought you said you were a virgin," Dean accused.

"You didn't exactly give me an opportunity to finish what I was going to say that day," I told him. "It was before the flood. This world was very young then. Only a couple millennia old at best. Most angels will not openly talk about it. And I'd rather not myself."

"Then we won't press," Sam said. Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Sam nudged him in the ribs.

I opened the menu and skimmed it for something to eat. I owe them an explanation, but can I give them one? Those of us who have children then still feel the pain of that loss. Especially if the children were too young to know what was going on. Some of us even lost our wives in the destruction.

Some tried to justify what had happened by calling it a "failed experiment." Those of us who had children disagreed, but we pushed it down and treaded carefully from that moment on. We were forbidden to see our wives again, even after they had passed away.

"What do the two of you know about Nephilim?"

Sam shrugged. Dean arched an eyebrow. I take it they don't.

"That is the name given to the children of angels and humans. Many of them have been referred to also as giant-warriors of Canaan and Philistine, but that is inaccurate. Those warriors have no lineage to angels nor are they nearly as tall. They actually had gigantism. Nephilim, by the time they were adults, were about fifteen feet in height.

"If you were to ask anyone on the street today, they wouldn't be able to give you a straight answer.

"The point is that one of the Nephilim, when he reached adulthood, went mad and slaughtered everyone he could find. His actions led to the destruction of other Nephilim. They were turned to stone immediately after he tried to open a gateway into heaven so he could destroy us there as well."

"Was he Caleb?" Sam asked.

"No," I say. I take a deep breath to try and calm the shaking emotions that were slowly streaming out of the lid I had put on them. "Caleb was eight years old at that time. He was picking apples with his friends."

"That's not right," Dean said. "Just because one of them goes 'here's Johnny,' the others were still kids and they weren't doing anything wrong."

"He was the oldest. There was fear that the others would become like him. It was a risk that wasn't willing to be taken. As for the angels that were residing on Earth when this happened, myself included, we were forced to return. Many of our wives either died trying to save the children or a little while afterward. We were forbidden from seeing them again, both our children and our wives."

"But your children died."

"They were allowed to go to heaven, save the eldest. I never imagined any of them would be able to be reborn. Someone may have thought they were worth a second chance. And I can't think of anyone more deserving than Caleb."

"Well, yeah," Sam said, "He's your kid."

"Caleb was more than just my child, Sam. He wanted to become one of God's priests and was about to become a novice monk. There was debate of whether he might be a prophet later in his life. He wanted to know everything about God and loved God."

Our breakfast arrived.

I've told them about my son. I would only be a matter of time before I was comfortable to talk about Dinah. Still I felt slightly better talking about Caleb.

Caleb did deserve another chance at life and I am happy he was given one.

But why is he an Emere?

TWENTY-THREE

We expected her to show up at least a half an hour after three o'clock. But the time came and passed. I was beginning to think she had either forgotten or changed her mind. Minutes after the expected time, Sam's phone rang and he answered.

"Hello?" His face went grim. "Meg?" Dean and I looked at him and he put the phone on speaker. "There," he said.

"_Good,"_ Came the cold voice of Meg. _"Angel, we have the Emere. Guess who she's calling out for? That's right, Dad.—Shut her up!"_ Muffled in the background was a smack and a short, shrill scream. _"We'll give you an hour to come to us willingly. If you do, we'll let her go in exchange for you. After that, we'll kill her slow. Meet us at the gym. See you then."_ Meg hung up.

Sam pocketed his phone.

"It's up to you, Cas," Dean said. "Technically it is your kid."

"We aren't entirely sure," Sam said, "even if Meg is convinced that Sarah's Caleb."

"Regardless, there's still a possibility."

"What would you do, then Dean, if this was your kid?"

"I'd go," Dean said. "But not without a plan."

"Shut up," I say. "I can barely hear my own thoughts with you two clamoring on." I don't need to think: I already know my action. If there is even a small chance that Caleb and Sarah are the same person, I have to go. I failed my son once before. I can't allow it to happen again.

I have no plan, as Dean says. I'd have willingly laid my life down to ensure Caleb's safety in the past; I would do the same now.

I grab my trench coat and throw it over my shoulders.

"Where are you going?"

"To get Sarah," I say.

Dean follows me outside. "And what are you going to do when you get there?" he asks.

"What Meg wants," I answer. "I want you and Sam to take Sarah back to her parents."

"We'll go together," Dean said. "You're not going in there alone. You don't have your powers, Cas. They'll tear you apart just because you're a human who used to be an angel."

"I know."

"Then you intend to die?"

"Dean, this might be my son."

"I get that," Dean said, "I do. I had a son to for a short while myself. But if you die, then who'll protect Sarah? Or Caleb? Whoever you're more concerned for."

"I trust you and Sam."

"I'm not letting you die. It doesn't have to be an elaborate plan," Dean said. "But we do need a plan."

"Then lock them inside the gym as soon as Sarah is outside. Then get to a megaphone or something and perform an exorcism. You've done so before. Just wait until Sarah is out of their way first." Dean nods and opens the driver's door, I go around to the passenger seat. "And give me the knife," I demand as an afterthought.

"Sure," Dean said, honking his horn. Sam exited the room and climbed into the back seat.

"We got a plan?"

Dean filled him in on the way to the school.

"I'm fine with giving it a try, but I'm not sure the same trick will work twice."

"If you have a better idea, Sam, please share. Otherwise that's what we're going with," Dean said. He's on edge.

"Okay, no need to be so touchy. Jeez. Cas," I turn around to look at Sam. He hands me the knife. "You said you want this, right?"

I take the knife and examine it briefly: the sharp grooves are akin to a saw, useful for causing more pain than perhaps is needed, but it will do what I need it to.

We pull up to Harlowton High School's parking lot and park the Impala. The school is a multistory brick building. The back has boarded windows. We find the gym. We unpack what we need and carry it to the gym. Sam and Dean stay outside. I enter the gym.

There are five demons. Two are in the stands. One stands in the center where they have tied, gagged, and blindfolded Sarah. Another stands behind me, ready to guide me forward. And there is Meg kneeling in front of Sarah.

"I'm here," I say. "Let her go." Meg stands and pockets something I can't see. It looked like a knife. Sarah is still alive. From where I stand, she is unharmed.

"Not yet," Meg says, crossing her arms. "We have to see if the rumors are true."

"What rumors?"

The demon behind me slams something into my head. My knees buckle and my head throbs as I meet the floor. I'm lucid enough to anticipate the foot about to collide into my head and I block it with my arms. Another pair of boots slams into my spine.

I hear Sarah's muffled screams, but I utter not a sound. Not even a grunt.

I can't say how much time has passed until I'm pulled to my feet. But when I am, Sarah is untied and Meg leads her to the door. She breaks away from Meg and embraces me, weeping madly. She's pulled off a second later and shoved outside the gym.

Meg turns back to me. I spit blood out of my mouth. "Frisk him," she orders.

One of the demons from the stands pats me down, finding the knife. Meg arches an eyebrow and the demon gives her the knife. She fingers it in her hand and smirks. "You didn't really think you could kill us, did you, Angel?"

* * *

Now you know what I mean. Let the flaming begin...*cowers in the corner*


	13. 24 and 25

TWENTY-FOUR

I'm tied to the chair. One of the demons rolls something toward us. A trolley. Meg sets the knife down on the surface and fingers the other instruments there. Hammers, saws, knives, power tools, a scythe. There's a poker and flame thrower there as well.

"Do I get the privilege of knowing _why _I'm going to be tortured?"

"There are a few reasons," Meg said, smirking. "Averting the apocalypse, opening purgatory, aiding _Crowley_—that's just brushing the surface," she picked up a hammer, examined it and set it down. "I have a lot of issues with you. Most of them are about Caleb."

"You don't know Caleb. He died when he was eight."

"He didn't die. Yes, he was reborn and allowed to live on Earth as an Emere. He remembers though. Every little thing he's done to the demons."

She arches an eyebrow at me. "You don't know what happened to the Nephilim, do you. You and all the other mommies and daddies left in ignorance, thinking you weren't allowed to see your precious babies again."

She picked up a knife and approached me, tracing m features gently with the knife tip.

"That first Nephilim that went crazy was rehabilitated when they were all called to heaven. They're an army of half-angels. Once in a while, one of them returns to earth and becomes an Emere tying themselves to a soulless child they are the guardian of, about once every generation. They're given a certain purpose and they fulfill it by the time they reach adulthood. Sometimes, they stay a little longer because their hosts fall in love, go to college. Then once their legacy is preserved, they leave and a new Emere is chosen.

"Caleb and my father have been enemies for years. He helps the Winchesters kill him and my brother, though they do not know it. We're not as easy to kill as people think. This knife," she heads back to the trolley and picks up the demon-killing knife, "was forged by Caleb. It was stolen a millennia or two ago. And now it's back in enemy hands."

"You're quarrel is with my son," I say. "Why capture me when you had him?"

"Because you're his dad. An eye for an eye. A father for a father."

Meg backs off and one of the thugs she brought with her punches me. I can feel my nose break and my mouth swell with blood. Breathing got harder and I opted for breathing through my mouth. Which I found horribly laborious.

For another indefinite time, he backs off and Meg approaches again, holding a knife still glowing hot.

The knife plunges into my shoulder. I grit my teeth. This is nothing, though the pain is phenomenal. This is just the beginning. She twists the knife and the ebbing pain intensifies.

She pulls it out and the knife finds its way into the other shoulder. The same motions, the same pain.

Still I am determined not to give her the satisfaction of screaming.

The knife goes into both legs also before she changes her tool to a hammer. The bones in my right hand break. The hammer raises again.

"_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus." _

Meg pauses and glances at the overhead megaphone.

"_O__mnis satanica potestas omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."_

Meg opened her mouth and black smoke streamed out. But something blocked her. White smoke forced her back inside before taking form.

"_Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis."_

The form was a man, easily thirty years of age to the common eye. Meg looked terrified.

"_Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt. Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus __omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."_

The demons began to choke, as though being pulled out from the inside. The man whispered something in her ear, but I could not tell what. He seized the demon-killing knife and plunged it into Meg's heart. Her body glowed orange-yellow a moment and the vessel dropped to the ground. Blood spilling out over her chest.

"_Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire te rogamus, audi nos."_

The other demons screamed, pouring out of the mouths of their victims and vanishing back to Hell.

The man set the knife down on the trolley, glanced at me long enough for me to know his face, and turned to smoke again, flying outside.

A minute passed before the doors opened. Dean, Sam and Sarah ran toward me. While Dean untied me and hoisted me up, holding me up with one hand around my waist and the other holding my left arm around his neck, Sarah picked up the demon-killing knife and pocketed it.

"You shouldn't have come," she said. "Caleb would have come out eventually. He always does when I'm in danger."

"Then what was the point of asking us to protect you?" Sam asked. We walked out of the gym and to the car.

"Because the demons wanted Caleb. If they started hurting me, Caleb would have come out and they'd get what they wanted. They had angel fire ready and everything. They think they blindfolded me to keep me from knowing but that's how my senses peak: I'm more accurate when I'm blindfolded," Sarah said, "We didn't know they were going to trade him for Castiel. Nor do we know how they knew Castiel was Caleb's father."

"Sarah, have you actually seen Caleb?" Dean asks, putting me in the back seat.

"Yes," she said, "I see him in the mirrors. Only when he has something to say to me or I need someone to talk to. I call shotgun. You need someone who knows how to get to the hospital."

"Not yet," I say. "Take Sarah home first."

"I'm not the one who was just tortured!"

"Take. Her. Home."

Dean sat in the back with me while Sam drove, following Sarah's directions.

TWENTY-FIVE

Dean and I waited in the car while Sam took Sarah up to her doorstep. We heard her scream and I tried to sit up, but Dean wouldn't allow it.

"Stay here, I'll go see what's up." He left the car and ran across the street. I hate being useless, even if I am in searing pain. Favoring my broken hand, I get out of the car join them in the house.

Sarah's parents lie in a pool of blood. Sam pulls her back outside.

"Meg's parting gift, I guess," he whispered, holding Sarah close. "I'll stay here with her. Get Cas to the hospital." Sam pulls out his phone and dials three digits before putting his phone to his ear. Dean and I return to the car.

"I told you to wait."

"I may have just been tortured, but I'm not invalid," I say, annoyed at how nasally my voice sounds.

"You say that, but you're still the one with gaping holes in your shoulders and legs. You're lucky you didn't collapse in the middle of the street."

"I'm sure I could have held out for a while."

"You don't know that, Cas," Dean shouts, slamming the steering wheel.

I felt a little jolt. Fear? No. Shock, most likely.

"You can't know how long you'll hold out. Thousands of people break before they can be touched. They'll say anything if it means escaping torture. I've heard everything in the book. You're not an angel anymore. You're tolerance is likely to be less than what it used to be."

"Don't belittle me," I snap. It would have sounded more commanding if my nose hadn't been broken. "I lost my powers. That is all. I doubt I lost my resilience."

Dean shook his head and we turned a corner, following signs for the hospital. We passed a minute or two in angry silence.

"What happened to you, ugly?" Dean slammed on the breaks and we turned around to see Crowley in the back seat, holding an orange colored book in his hands. "I think that summarizes quite a bit, doesn't it?" he placed a book mark in between the pages and looked at us. "Let me guess: a demon bitch on her period."

"Is there any way to tell?" Dean asked.

"No," Crowley said. "But I'm guessing she was based on Angel's less than sexy appearance." The Impala resumed its course toward the hospital. Crowley looked at Dean, then at me. "Am I interrupting something? A lovers' quarrel?"

We found the hospital and pulled up to the emergency room. Once parked, we exit the car and check in. Crowley tries to follow us to the room they assigned me, but Dean shuts the door in his face. Crowley enters anyway.

"What is it Crowley?" Dean sighed, slumping into one of the seats as I discard my coats.

"I got a job for you plaid wearing shenanigans," Crowley said to Dean. "But go ahead and get your boyfriend cleaned up first. No rush. It's just a yuxa."

I pause, staring at Crowley.

"What did you say?"

"I said there's a yuxa on the loose. In Pinon, Arizona, to be precise," Crowley said.

"We have a few more errands to run _after _this," Dean snapped. "We just got landed with a thirteen years old Emere. We're stopping in Sioux Falls before we go anywhere else."

"Oh? What happened to her parents?"

"Murdered. Most likely by the same group that did this to Cas."

"Well, the plot thickens. Ever find out who the Emere was?"

Dean glanced at me. I shook my head. How many times will I have to tell someone about Sarah and her relationship to Caleb?

"We'll get out of your hair," Dean said to me, shoving Crowley outside. I picked up the annoying hospital gown with my good hand. Did I _have _to put this on? Regardless, I stripped down as best I could to my boxers and draped the gown around my shoulders, caring for the injuries.

I blink, seeing spots. What was this? Was this what humans meant by "seeing stars"? I try to finish putting the robe on, but my vision blurred and blackened.

When everything came back I was lying on the bed and my wounds cleaned and dressed. A doctor was examining my throbbing hand.

"Why am I on my back"

"You passed out, Jim," he said. _Jim? _He held his hand out and I grasped it with my good hand. "My name is Dr. Perez. You should have come to the hospital immediately, but no harm done. You were out long enough for me to take care of you wounds and I had just finished resetting your hand. Your partner told me you were mugged."

"Partner?"

"Yes. Uh, Mr. Dean Winchester."

"What gave you the impression that we're partners?"

Dr. Perez blinked at me. "I thought it was obvious. He and his brothers are in the waiting room with Sarah Carter. Jim, your injuries do not coincide with a random mugging. It looks to me like you were tortured."

I say nothing.

"Well, I'd like to keep you here overnight for observation."

"No."

"I think it'd be unwise to refuse, Jim. You suffered several blows to the head. You could have a concussion. You're lucky you woke up at all. I need you to stay up tonight. Your family can stay with you if you like. You can leave as soon as I check on you tomorrow morning."

The doctor left. A few minutes later, the door opened again. The Winchesters and Crowley returned.

"So, Angel's got himself a concussion."

"They don't know. They—"

"Want to keep you overnight," Sam said. "It takes a few hours to diagnose a concussion, but once they know, we may be able to leave."

"And Sarah?"

"She begged me to convince the police I was with child protective services," Sam said. "Not sure it worked, but for now, we have 'custody' over her. I came in to see how you were doing. _Crowley _is supposed to stay with her, but, well you see."

"Excuse me, I don't want that brat getting ideas to splash me with water again! She may get her hands on holy water next time."

Sam shoved Crowley outside the door and followed suit, closing the door behind them.

Now it was just me and Dean again in the silence.

* * *

Crowley's reading The Deathly Hallows :) Most likely because I was reading The Deathly Hallows at the time I wrote this.

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, alerted, and fav'd the story so far. You're support is most appreciated.


	14. 26 and 27

TWENTY-SIX

"Jim?" I asked arching an eyebrow.

Dean shrugged. "I figured it'd be less conspicuous than 'Castiel.' Besides, that's your vessel's name."

"His name is Jimmy."

"Jim. Jimmy. Same spelling, just a couple extra letters in one. It doesn't matter. One way or the other, concussion or not, you're a bit out of commission."

I glance at my casted hand. "It's just my hand. It's not like I got my leg broken. Though a little later and I'm sure yes, she'd have gotten to my legs."

"They got your nose."

My nose itched. I barely touched it and winced. The injury is still very tender.

"What are they looking for? Why am I stuck here? Why do they think I might have a concussion?"

"Well you did pass out a while ago. You were comatose for about half an hour."

"They're basing this theory of my having a concussion because I was unconscious for half an hour?" I ask incredulously. Dean pulled out a pamphlet.

"'A person who suffers a concussion may or may not lose consciousness," he quoted, "A concussion is not always easily or immediately recognized.

"The person should discontinue participating in sports or any other activities with risk of injury during this time as receiving a second injury to the brain before an initial concussion has healed can be very dangerous….' Blah, blah, blah….

"'The signs of concussion to watch out for are unconsciousness for a couple of seconds up to thirty minutes, memory loss (especially of the time period surrounding the event), headaches, dizziness, confusion, nausea, unusual tiredness or anxiety, lack of balance or coordination, difficulty thinking or making decisions, excessive irritability, blurry vision, and saying things that don't make sense or speaking with a slur….

"'Additionally, certain criteria suggest that a concussion may be more serious than it initially appears. These include vomiting, longer term memory loss, seizures, a fractured skull, visible bruises on or near the head, falling from at least three feet, and having been injured in a car accident.'"

Dean set the pamphlet down on the table next to him.

"Well I think excessive irritability will be hard to spot, but the others shouldn't be too bad to notice. Just don't start vomiting over my car."

"Funny," I say sarcastically. "I wasn't hit in the head until I was tied down. Not that they didn't try…wait…no. I was hit before then from behind." I pause, thinking. "Yeah. That's right. It still doesn't explain why I'm not allowed to sleep."

"They may be afraid that you might go comatose again. I'm a little afraid you might."

"Okay. Fine. When I'm released, drop me off back at Bobby's before you go after the yuxa. I'll come join you as soon as I have a driver's license."

"Sam and I agreed to let someone else who knows about yuxas go after the yuxa. What is a yuxa anyway?"

"A snake that turns into a young woman after living for a hundred years," I tell him. "They're like succubus."

"So they're sex hungry snake women with the sole purpose of getting laid?"

"Actually their purpose is to get, what was the phrase? Knocked up."

"Are they harmful? Do they kill?"

"They can. The more dangerous the snake, the more dangerous the yuxa. But they're very rare. Snakes generally can live up to about twenty or twenty-five years."

"So a yuxa is an immortal snake that grew legs, arms, and a pair of breasts?"

"Yes."

Dean nodded his head. "Does the sex of the snake matter?"

I never thought of that. "I don't…think so…"

"Okay, I see the urgency now. Yuxa: very bad. You still need to rest and I'm not leaving you alone. We'll go after the snake lady when we're absolutely sure you're not going to get bashed in the head again."

"Why do you have to stay with me while I heal?" I ask.

Dean arched an eyebrow. "You have to ask?"

Again the room is engulfed in an awkward silence. There seems to be a lot of these lately.

Dean's eyes bear into mine, a pair of bronze orbs revealing much about him to me he'd rather keep hidden from the world.

And I knew it all. I know his pain and I know his guilt; both the guilt he has for the actions of past, and the pain he ought not to feel. I don't care for it. They are only a part of this man, who is stronger than he knows himself to be.

"Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you staring at me?"

"No reason."

TWENTY-SEVEN

I was deemed fit to leave the next morning, but I was to keep off my legs as much as possible so not to reopen the injuries done to them. I thought it ludicrous, but was convinced not to make a scene over being pushed to the Impala in wheelchair.

Now I know why Bobby hates wheelchairs. This dependency is humbling if not humiliating.

Once at the car, I stood and climbed into the shot gun seat. Sarah climbed into the back seat with Sam. Dean turned the key and the engine ignited into life.

"Where are we going?" Sarah asked.

"Sioux Falls, South Dakota," Dean said. "We've got family there where you'll be safe. His name's Bobby Singer. Scary old guy, but he's like a father to us."

"I want to go with you," she whined.

I glance behind me to face Sarah.

She's shaking and pale. Her wide eyes are red and there are circles under her eyes. And she's clutching Sam's sleeve in a death grip.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," I tell her. "He's a hunter who stays home and acts as our intelligence resource. He's a good man."

"I still want to stay with you guys."

"We know you do," Sam said, gently prying her off his arm. "But what we do is very dangerous. It'd be too much of a risk to bring you with us. We'll be leaving you with Bobby for your own safety. You can go to school, have a life, get a boyfriend, and go to college. What we do isn't the life for a fourteen year old kid, boy or girl. You're childhood would be steadier and more enjoyable if you stayed in one location. And we visit Bobby often, so it won't be like we really left."

Sarah slapped her hands against her ears and shut her eyes tightly. Fresh tears squeezed between the shut lids and eyelashes.

"You still have Caleb with you," Sam said, trying to comfort her. I turned away from them, facing the front.

This is going to be a long ride.

We stopped only to get gas in the Impala and grab dinner in Spearfish, South Dakota. Sam took the opportunity to let Bobby know we'd be there in another six hours. After we ate, Sarah finally fell asleep.

"She's been awake for hours," Sam whispered, "Wouldn't sleep last night. I think she was terrified of the demons that got her parents. She knows they won't come after her now, but she was so afraid to close her eyes."

"Yeah, what happened back there was shit," Dean muttered. "It's over for now. There isn't much we can do except keep her safe. She seems to have taken a liking to you, Sam."

"Yeah, a little bit."

We entered Sioux Falls around midnight. Another half an hour passed before we arrived at Bobby's. He greeted us at the door.

"What happened to you?" he asked, noticing the broken nose and hand.

"I was tortured. Nothing I can't handle."

Bobby rolled his eyes. I'm sure I could hear "idjit" muttered under his breath.

Sam carried Sarah inside and laid her down on the couch, covering her with one of the blankets from the closet.

"Dare I ask about the kid?" Bobby asked.

"It's a long and complicated story," Dean said. "Very complicated."

"Nothing is more complicated than Cas' situation."

The corner of Dean's mouth twitched irritably. "Cas, would you like to explain? Or summarize?"

I shrugged. I point at Sarah. "She's an Emere with a Nephilim as her spirit, who is my son who I thought was dead for several millennia. Now she's orphaned and it's up to us to take care of her, all the while knowing she may become comatose every so often without warning. How is that _not _more complicated than my situation?"

"Well: you were an angel, who tried to become God, and now you're human," Bobby's brow furrowed. "I take it back. A kindergartner can understand your situation, Cas. It'd take a rocket scientist to understand the girl's."

"Cas _overcomplicated_ the girl's story," Dean said.

"No I didn't. I said what it was exactly."

"Then why does my head hurt?" Dean asked. "I lived through it and all that happened is that you summarized_ what _happened and now I have a migraine. If I can't understand it and it makes my head hurt, then it's overcomplicated."

"No," Sam said, "he got it down pat. No head ache for me." Sam grinned.

Dean glared at him.

"And this was the last job?"

"Yes," Dean answered.

"You drove thirteen hours to get here from Montana just to drop off a ten year old girl?"

"Fourteen hours actually, and she's fourteen. Beside's Cas is supposed to be off his feet for a while," Sam said.

I glare at Sam and refuse to sit. My leg wounds are fine. They haven't opened up. And It's hard not to listen to the "doctor's orders" when you're in a car four fourteen hours.


	15. 28 and 29

TWENTY-EIGHT

"Where are you going so early in the morning? And why do you want my baby?" Dean asked Sam over breakfast. Sam was fully dressed and had a duffle bag packed by his chair.

"I'm going after the yuxa. As for the Impala, it has everything I need already for the hunt. Do you want to go? I thought you wanted to stay with Cas?"

"I do, but come on, Sam. Why my car? Really? Why?"

"Because there's another mode of transportation available: when Cas is better, you guys will be able to come down in the Galaxie."

"That's not for a month! You'll be done with the hunt by then!"

Sam shook his head.

"We rushed into the last two because we didn't know enough about the creatures. Without Cas, we could have died. _He _could have died. We need to be careful this time. We don't know anything about yuxas and Cas won't be there when I am. So I'm going to take my time with this hunt."

Dean fidgeted a little bit. I don't know if anyone else noticed. He glanced between me and Sam. Back and forth went his eyes. Brother, friend, brother, friend, brother, friend, friend, brother.

"Dean, if you want to go with Sam, I won't stop you," I say. "Bobby and Sarah are here. I think that's more than enough eyes to make sure I don't slip into a coma. I know where Sam's headed, so when I'm better, I can meet you guys there. There's not much left to do on the Galaxie except paint it. I'm sure I can handle that on my own."

Dean groaned and scratched the back of his head. "I'll stay with Cas," he said with finality. "Sam, if anything happens to my car, even a scratch, Hell's demons will look like fairies compared to what I'll do to you."

Sam faked a look of terror and rolled his eyes before returning to his cereal. Dean sat down.

"Are you sure you want to stay?"

"Cas, I made my decision. Shut up," He said, grabbing a couple slices of toast.

It may not have escaped Dean's notice, but it certainly didn't escape mine that Sam was smiling.

"Where's Sarah?" Dean asked.

"Still asleep, last I checked," I told him. She was curled up on the couch when I passed by twenty minutes earlier. "Why?"

"She's not there now."

"Maybe she went to the bathroom." Sam suggested.

"Then why didn't she come and ask? She doesn't know where the bathroom is." Dean reasoned.

We glanced around the table at each other. Dean shrugged.

"Maybe I'm over thinking it."

"Maybe a little, Sam said. I don't comment, biting into the toast. Perhaps Sarah did go to the bathroom. Or perhaps she is exploring the house, trying to make the unfamiliar into something familiar.

Once we finished eating, Dean and I went to bid Sam goodbye. Dean handed Sam his keys and Sam opened the back door to the Impala to put his duffle bag inside and pause. He set the bag on the ground and reached inside.

He pulled Sarah out of the car.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked sternly.

"I overheard you say you were leaving."

"Sarah…"

"I want to help."

"You'd be helping by staying here and out of the way."

Sarah clenched and unclenched her hands. "I hate you, Sam Winchester!" We were all taken aback. Sarah ran inside the house. The door closed loudly behind her.

Dean and I turned back to Sam, a look of shock etched on his face.

"I do not pity you," Dean said. "I'll go talk to her. Take care, Sam. We'll see you in a month."

"Yeah," Sam said. The brothers shook hands and embraced before Dean went inside.

Sam turned at me. "Would Caleb have…"

"No."

"Didn't think so," Sam said, picking the duffle bag up and placed it in the back seat. "Heal fast. I'm not sure how long I'll hold out."

"We'll research what we can find and let you know."

"I do have a computer. I have ways of doing my own research. But any help is appreciated." He held his hand out for me to shake. I grasped his in my good hand.

The door opened again and Sarah walked up to Sam and embraced him around his middle, burying her face in his torso. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"I forgive you," he said, hugging her back. The embrace broke. "When you're older and we're sure you can handle it, _maybe _you can go on a hunt with us."

"I have Caleb with me. I don't need experience. He has all the experience I need."

"I don't doubt that, Princess," Sam said. "But you can gain some of your own experience so you don't have to rely on Caleb every time you're in danger. Besides, you might find it useful being able to use a gun on your own."

Sam walked around the car to the driver's seat and entered the car, turning it on. He waved once and drove away. I stayed with Sarah and watched the Impala turn the corner, out of sight.

TWENTY-NINE

Several things happened over the next week.

Bobby enrolled Sarah into Axtel Park Middle School as his niece.

Despite my injured hand, the Galaxie received its new paintjob. After the paint dried, Dean took the car as his mode of transportation while I studied to get my license.

Driving with a broken hand and a mild concussion was a little more dangerous than Dean was willing to allow of me.

Mostly, he was Sarah's ride to and from school.

My phone rang and I answered. "Hello?"

"_Hey, what do you know about Arizona's snakes?"_

"I know nothing about Arizona's snakes. That's more a question for Bobby, isn't it?"

"_I already asked him. He said he could narrow it down by region, but there are actually three different snake breeds in the Pinon Area, two of which are poisonous. I'd do this myself, but my computer froze!"_

"Okay," I said, "I'll see what I can find."

"_Thanks, Cas. I owe you."_

Sam hung up. I marked my place in the DOL/DMV handbook and went to find Dean. I found him outside, working on another car.

"Dean."

"Hey, Cas. What's up?"

"Sam's computer froze and he asked me to look up snakes."

"You could ask Bobby to let you use the computer."

"Sam already asked him. The snakes were narrowed down to three. Beyond that, there's nothing new."

Dean straightened, wiping his soot-blackened hands on a rag. "I'll get the keys."

"I could drive," suggest.

Dean smirks at me. "Nice try," he says, entering the house.

I head to the Galaxie and lean against the hood. "Worst possible time to have a concussion," I growl. "One of these days, I'm going to drive you. I promise. One of these days."

Dean returns, sporting his leather jacket and the keys.

We arrive at the library and on entering, split up to search for anything relating to yuxa or snakes in Arizona.

There were plenty on the reptiles of South Dakota, but eventually, I found one book that dealt with snakes.

I met up with Dean, who appeared to have a little more luck: two books.

"How rare are these creatures, again?"

"Very." Was all I said. We sat down and began skimming pages. Snake after snake, region after region. Finally I found one possibility.

"I got something," Dean said. I cease skimming and look at Dean.

"'The Yuxa Yilan, or the Sly Snake, is a legendary creature that figures in Tatar folklore. Hmm, tatar," he grinned. I did not. The reference was lost on me. Dean returned to the text: "According to popular beliefs, every 100-years old snake is transformed into Yuxa. In fairy tales, Yuxa is described as a beautiful damsel who would marry men in order to beget offspring.'"

"We already know that," I say.

"Not done. 'The yuxa is a creature of Nagaist religion, follower of the lesser god. Yuxa are known for their uncanny ability to mix with humans, but still possess many serpentine traits, such as shedding their skin, poisonous saliva, immense strength, and fertility powers.

"'When the yuxa is from a poisonous snake, her mates are much more likely to die accidently from saliva exchange and her poison will hint to the breed of snake of which she was born.

"'Yuxa are impervious to fire once they have gained human form. She cannot be killed by created by mankind. Legends state that a sword from heaven is the only weapon that can kill a yuxa.'"

I return to my book on snakes. One of the poisonous snakes is prominent in the area: The crotalus viridis nuntis—the Hopi Prairie Rattlesnake.

"I think we should tell Sam to tread more carefully," I show him Hopi snake and explain my reasoning for why this snake is most likely our yuxa.

I put the books away while Dean called Sam.

I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye and turned my head to face it. There is nothing.

I leave the library.

"What?" Dean asks.

"Nothing," I say, "I thought I saw something."

"Maybe you did," he said, opening the driver's door.

"That's impossible," I answer, also entering the car. The doors close almost in unison.

"Why?"

"Because I thought I saw Gabriel."

Dean stared at me as though I had done something crazy. "I think we should get your head checked out again."

"Dean…"

"I'm just saying."

"Gabe's dead. I said I was impossible."

"I know."

Dean checked his watch. The engine revved to life and we left for home.


	16. 30 and 31

THIRTY

Sarah came running over to the Galaxie. Instead of climbing into the back seat, she rapped on Dean's window.

"I'm going to ask you a question and I really need you to say yes."

Dean and I exchanged looks.

"One of the guys in my class asked me if I'd like to go and get pizza with him after school. I may have said yes…And I'd have called and asked during my lunch break, but someone thinks I'm too young to have my own phone."

A smile found its way onto Dean's face.

"Please say it's okay if I go? I don't want to tell him I have to cancel because my dad's got some rule about dating."

Dean looks at me. "Cas, do you have any crazy rules about dating?" Dean asked.

I shook my head.

"Then your dad says yes."

"They actually think you're my dad, Dean."

"I wonder why…well, if it _was_ up to me, you wouldn't be dating till eighteen. So if you'd rather—"

"No," she piped. She ran around to the other side and opened the car door, embracing me. "Thank you so much, Castiel!" she straightened. "I'll see you guys around six."

"Five," Dean said, "And no later."

"Fair enough."

The door closed and we saw her rush toward a dark youth. She waved at us before returning to her conversation with the boy.

We pull out of the school parking lot.

"Why did you tell her I said yes? I said no such thing."

"I know," Dean said, "Usually when kids say their 'parents have crazy rules about dating,' it means they can't date until their eighteen. You said you didn't, so in a way, its saying, 'you can date, but there are guidelines.' You my friend are way too literal for your own good."

"So I've heard."

"Now what are your guidelines?"

"I don't know. Do I have guidelines?"

"You're gonna need them."

I know nothing about dating guidelines for children. What is normal? What is too harsh? Is dating until one is eighteen harsh? It doesn't sound harsh. It's sounds reasonable to me. When are such rules meant to be applied?

"Okay, I got one," Dean said, "Always have a condom."

I narrow my eyes at Dean. Why was he throwing out suggestions if we agree that Sarah is my "daughter?"

"I counter: no sex until marriage."

"That's a little harsh."

"No. That's perfectly reasonable."

"I'm not married. I've had sex."

"Yes, but this isn't you, Dean. This is a teenage girl. The risks are so much greater."

"I'm sticking with always have a condom. Almost foolproof."

"Exactly: _almost _foolproof. No sex until marriage."

"Oh come on, don't damper the experience for her."

"She's _fourteen_, Dean."

Dean silenced. "Okay, compromise: no sex until sixteen."

"Marriage."

"Seventeen?"

"I'm not compromising!"

"What if she never gets married?"

Well, if she never gets married…"Fine. She at least has to be a consenting adult."

"That makes it eighteen!" Dean shouts, pumping his fists into the air briefly. "I win!"

I think a little more after we had settled that first rule. "Is dating during the week common for students?"

"No. They usually date on weekends. Besides: going out for pizza, not a date. If a movie is involved then yeah, it's more like date. And…I think Sam had _study dates_ when he was her age once in a while. Again study dates. That's always been over my head. Who studies on a date?"

"No dates on school nights."

Dean seemed to hesitate a moment. "Agreed," he said. "Curfew of eleven o'clock Friday and Saturday. Ten on Sunday and weekdays."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with dating?"

"It's good to have a curfew whether you're teenager is dating or not," Dean said. "If they don't return home before then, the parent is officially free to worry for twenty four hours or until the kid comes home; whichever happens first. I got that from a parenting magazine the year before last."

"_Parenting Magazine_!" Dean slammed on the breaks. My head hit the back of my seat and stars flew around my head. Someone seized my shoulder and the headache and stars vanished. "Feeling better, little bro?"

I turn around in my seat. Same as Dean. Gabriel grinned back at us. Dean and I jumped out of the car and opened the trunk, grabbing holy water, and salt. Gabriel exited the car, holding his hands outward, silently asking us what we were doing.

Dean threw salt in his face and I splashed him with holy water. Nothing happened.

THIRTY-ONE

"Most people, when their brother comes back from the dead, scream. Not assault them with holy relics," Gabriel snapped, wiping the salt and water off his face and clothes.

"It was just a precaution. Father brought you back?"

"And I got a visit from Our Brother also," he said, leaning against the car. He glanced at it and furrowed his brow.

"What happened to the Impala?"

"It's with Sam," Dean answered.

"I never pegged you for driving white fords, Dean. Chevy's seemed more your style."

"They are. This is Cas' car."

Gabriel nodded his head. "Sweet ride little brother."

"Thanks," I said, feeling dread.

Gabriel _never _compliments people unless he wants something out of them—and only when he really, _really_ wants something from them. His requests are usually along the lines of something death defying.

"What is it?" I ask, closing my eyes. Whatever it is, I'm not going to like it.

"I'm looking for an Emere. Name's Sarah. About yea high," he indicates Sarah's height almost exactly. "Fourteen years old. Cute little blonde girl, baby blue eyes, wears a ponytail. Cheerleader material. Passes off as a psychic. Ring any bells?"

I shake my head. I don't know what Gabriel wants with Sarah and I _refuse_ to give him any information until he tells me why.

"Why?" Dean asks. "You stalk cheerleaders now?"

"Not just any cheerleader: this specific cheerleader. You see, I'm in a bit of a bind with her. The Emere is after me, so I'm after her. Catch her before she catches me. And she can catch me. Emere are like angelic bounty hunters."

Dean looks at me angrily. Okay so I still withheld information. I knew that Emere are "bounty hunters," as Gabriel put it. I didn't think it was important as her target is not the Winchesters. I would have known if they were.

"They come here with a mission in mind and they fulfill that mission, stay only long enough so their host gets a baby and then sayonara. They go back to heaven to get ready for the next assignment."

He doesn't know that Emere are reincarnated Nephilim. Nor does he know that it is his favorite nephew that is after him.

"So this chick's assignment is to…"

Gabriel held his hand out palms up and closed into fists. "Shackle me and take me back to heaven for trial. Strange reason for being brought back to life, don't you think?"

Yes. It is strange.

"You're absolutely sure that's what she's here to do?"

"Either that or she's here on vacation. Though, who'd become an Emere solely to go on vacation from Heaven?"

He's got a point.

"Last I heard," Gabriel said, leaning against the Galaxie again. "She moved here with three men who drive a black sixties Chevy Impala. So," Gabriel grinned. That's never good. Sure, it is worse when he's not, but you don't want to see that grin! "I know you know where she is."

Dean and I exchange looks. It's impossible to lie to a trickster/angel. So the truth will do…or at least part of it.

"We went to pick her up from school," Dean began.

"She wanted to go and have pizza with a friend."

"Being ever so cool, we gave our consent."

"But we don't know which pizzeria she went to."

Gabriel nodded, grin gone. Good. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"Yes."

"In three hours," I say.

Dean checked his watch. "Make that two hours and forty minutes. She'll be back at home around that time."

"Uh-huh," Gabriel said. I could see the grin return. Did he see the deceit? He couldn't have. Surround one deceit with truths and you can fool almost anyone!

"Cas, Cas, Cas," Gabriel said. "You're lying to me."

I blink, keeping my face unreadable. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm the only one you ever _dared _to lie to."

Considering he made my life horrible growing up, I don't see the problem with lying to Gabriel once in a while. I can't remember how many times as a child I had been tricked into one of Gabriel's pranks. Or how many times I have tried and failed to get back at him for everything.

"Something you just told me is a lie. Come on, really?" Gabriel clapped my shoulder. "Do you really think you can fool me?"

"I did before."

"No you haven't. That was Uriel."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at me. He gently poked my nose. I winced but after the quick, sharp pain, it didn't feel so numb anymore.

"You looked too funny with a broken nose. It was distracting me. Now. The _truth_, Cas. Where is the Emere?"


	17. 32 and 33

THIRTY-TWO

"We told you where she is," I snap. "She went out for pizza after school with a classmate. She will be back home in a couple hours."

Gabriel frowned. "Okay. I'll buy it. She'll be back _home_," he used air- quotes over "home," "in a couple hours. But is one little thing still bothering me."

"What?"

"Why are you trying to protect her?"

"Emere are not malevolent, Gabriel."

"They're little mind-soldiers God created to keep us in line!" Gabriel shouted. "Do you know how many Emere I've crossed paths with? Every single one that's been _born_ since Our Brother returned to Heaven two thousand years ago. That's approximately six hundred different Emere!"

"There must be a reason. Not one of those Emere was supposed to be after you. They had very specific instructions that they must follow."

"Yes. Well, then, capturing _me _must be one of the bonuses of the job."

"Do you know _why_ they're after you?" Dean asked, closing the trunk.

Gabriel went suddenly quiet and fidgeted where he stood. Crossing and uncrossing his arms and legs. "Our Brother…may have ordered me to return to heaven after I ran away…And I refused."

"You've been running away for two millennia because you didn't want to face Our Brother?" I asked.

I remembered, vaguely, what happened when My Brother turned me human.

The fear and, though undetectable at the time, the guilt I felt having seen him; the disappointment on his face which curdled my blood.

I don't blame Gabriel for not wanting that confrontation. If he knew who he was really running from, he'd run harder.

_I'd_ run harder if I was him. But what I've learned so far about My Brother and My Father is that running is futile.

"Gabriel, it's impossible to run from him."

Gabriel chuckled. "You don't know what I've done. You don't know why I keep running."

"No I don't. But I've done something just as bad. I was punished for it. My wings are clipped. But I learned that Our Brother is quick to forgive. He's forgiven me for what I've done. I don't know if I'll get my wings back, but knowing that he has forgiven me and still calls me brother…it's enough."

Gabriel shook his head. "I can't go back. I'm not as brave as you are. He won't forgive me."

Why my chest hurt when Gabriel said this, I do not know. "I forgive you," I tell him. It seemed like the right thing to say and it was true. "Nothing you have done will ever stop me from forgiving you."

Gabriel is taken aback. He stares at me as though he imagined what I said.

"Well," Dean said, "Until you guys get your balls back, I'll be in the car."

I glare at Dean. Of course he'd ruin a brotherly moment like this with snide remarks!

"Oh, and Cas, I'm still driving."

"My concussion is gone."

"Your hand is still broken."

"Gabriel can fix it."

"You still don't have your license."

"Really? You care about that? It's my car, Dean. Or are you falling in love with my car?"

Dean glared at me. "That," he growled, "is blasphemy. How dare you accuse me of cheating on my baby!"

Gabriel cleared his throat. "Are the two of you—"

"No," we shout at him. He arches an eyebrow. After studying us for a moment, he shrugs. "Too bad. After all the bad luck you two have had with women, I was certain you'd go for each other."

Dean turns a shade of red. I can't tell if he's embarrassed or angry. Maybe he's both.

Myself? I'm irked. "I take it back, Gabriel," I growl. "You're not forgiven."

"Take backs?" Gabriel scoffed. "Really? How old are we here? Nine? Here, give me your hand." He grabs my broken hand and I feel the bones reshape and reform. The cast is split in half and I flex my fingers.

"Thank you. Dean, get out of my seat!"

"You still don't have a license!"

Gabriel patted my shoulder. "He likes you."

I brush Gabriel's hand aside. The least he could do is tell me something I _don't _know. I hear Gabriel snap his fingers. For a moment, I don't know where I am. In front of me is a dash board and a steering wheel. I glance behind me, where Dean is sitting, looking still very confused, but regaining sense quickly. Gabriel is right beside me, arms crossed and grinning.

"Gabriel…" Dean growled, sitting forward. Possibly about to try and attempt to murder Gabriel.

I don't wait to be told what to do. I turn the key and the engine roars to life. I select first gear and press on the gas pedal. Dean falls back into the seat and stays there, arms crossed and glaring angrily at us via the rearview mirror.

"Hey, is your refrigerator running? You better go catch it!" Gabriel shouts at an elderly lady. She shouts incoherently at us. I shake my head, trying to wonder _how _I'm related to Gabriel again while Dean lightens up, snorting with laughter.

"Hi, I love you!" Gabriel shouts at a pair of girls, who stare at us wide eyed and afraid.

"Turn the car around, Cas. Let's freak them out."

"No," I say.

"Come on!"

"No."

"Please?"

"_No_!"

This may be the longest drive back to Bobby's I'll ever have…

THIRTY-THREE

Driving with Gabriel is not something I will take lightly ever again. He is more obnoxious than I remember. The only reason I put up with him for this short while was because he entertained Dean.

Still, it's not likely to be something I'll let happen again.

Bobby exited the house, rushing toward us.

"You don't want to go in there," he said.

"What happened?" Dean asked. Bobby stared at him, perplexed that Dean was in the back seat. He shook it off and continued:

"Sarah came home about half an hour ago. She's downstairs _torturing _Crowley. What are you doing?" he asked when we stepped out of the car. "You can't go down there! She's gone all kinds of crazy!"

"Whatever happened to getting pizza?" Dean muttered. I wondered the same thing.

We entered the house, hearing a strangled scream from below us. Dean and I head to the basement and Dean rams himself against it.

There's a person on fire trapped in a Devil's Trap. Sarah snaps her fingers and the fire extinguishes, leaving a panting, wide eyed Crowley.

"_Tell me where he is_."

"I _have _told you," Crowley growled. "He's in Arizona."

"_I have a source that has told me otherwise. He must have contacted you_."

"He hasn't. I swear."

Sarah raised her hand again. I jumped at her and pinned her hands to her chest, pulling her upstairs. Her eyes are blindfolded. "Let me go!" She shrieked. "_Let me go,_ **_now_**!"

Dean follows close, a length of rope in hand. I force Sarah into a chair and we bind her there.

"Okay," Dean said. "I want the truth. What the hell were you doing down there?"

"_My job_," Sarah shouted.

"You didn't have to lie to us, Sarah."

Sarah smiled. "_Sarah's retreated into her head_," she announced. "_Have you rednecks really thought she was handling her parents' death well? She saw her parents dripping with blood. She saw their intestines strewn across her house. For you, that may be nothing. For a fourteen year old girl who hasn't faced a battle in her_ **_life_**, _that's extremely damaging to her psyche. More damaging than you can imagine. I am always with her. I am her sole protector and comforter. Unlike **you**_," Sarah looked directly at me. "_I am the one who truly loves her and wants to protect her_."

"You think I don't want what's best for Sarah?" I ask.

"_I know you better than you think_!" Sarah shouted. "_When my body was destroyed and you were forced to return to heaven, you didn't go home! You left her alone to die! Now you think that because you know it's me, you think you can 'fix' what happened that day? That you'll be given a second chance? You have not been my father for millennia_."

I pull up another chair and sit down, leaning forward. I look at Dean for a moment, who leads Gabriel out of the room.

"Caleb," I say once we're alone, "if it was possible for me to go back to your mother, I would have. But I couldn't. I was forbidden to return."

"_Then you should have defied orders_."

"I did defy my orders," I say, "the moment I married your mother, I defied every order I had been given."

I spotted a tear slide down Sarah's cheek followed by another.

Caleb _is _angry, that goes without saying.

But he understands more than he is letting on and deliberately acts like a child and speaks harshly to me. Even if he understands what happened and why I couldn't return, he still resents me for having obeyed regardless what I felt I should do.

"Caleb, I never stopped loving you. Nor did I stop loving your mother. I thought you were dead and I am sorry for ever giving up hope that you may have been alive. I have lost my faith so many times…"

"_You lost your faith because you doubted, Father_," Caleb said. "_I and my cousins are the lowest of angels, and yet we are the greatest. We do not doubt, for we are eternally in our Lord's presence and know it. But those of our kind who are higher are fools who, like humans, try to reach for the top when they should be scrambling for the bottom. They have lost sight of God. As have you. Now you have seen Him and He has knocked down your stubborn pride and made you less than all the angels in Heaven. It is no less nor more than you deserve._

"_Now will you untie me so I can fulfill my mission that my Lord has assigned me_?"

"And what mission is that?" I ask.

Sarah goes silent for a moment. Her head bows, chin almost touching her chest. Then she looks up and Caleb speaks: "_To save Sam Winchester from himself; to repair his soul and reap away the darkness inside him. Sam is a danger to himself and others at this moment. I wanted to go with him and keep an eye on him, but I was stopped. I tried to pretend to be the bratty, impatient teen for as long as I could, but I can't keep doing that. I need to find Sam_."

"What happened to him?"

"_You did. You broke the wall that kept his memories of Hell at bay. My original assignment was to make sure the Apocalypse went as planned, but that was thwarted and I was given a new assignment: Sam is no different than an Emere as he is currently. When he was taken out of Hell, you left a piece of him behind. On accident, and accidents are forgiven. But it has damaged him._

"_He's not in Arizona. He was, but I received word today that he is missing_."

"That's impossible," I say. "I spoke to him earlier today. He was still after the Yuxa."

"_He's not in Arizona_."

"Where else could he have gone?"

"_You tell me. Where would Sam go in the state he's in? None of this would have happened if you let me go with him_."

"Caleb, we'll find him. Crowley can look."

"_You trust a demon_?"

"Crowley is more trustworthy than others."

Sarah's nose wrinkled angrily. "_After all the dealings you and the Winchesters have made with demons, what makes you think that you'd be able to trust **any **of them_?"

I don't answer. Instead I stand and walk out of the room. I'm not comfortable untying Sarah just yet. I walk downstairs. Crowley is still trapped.

"What is it now?"

"Something's gone wrong with Sam's hunt. If you can find him, I'll release you," I promise. Crowley smirks.

"And what will you give in return?"


	18. 34 and 35

THIRTY-FOUR

"What will you give me in return?" Crowley repeated.

"I thought you'd do me a favor," I said, "Considering our past partnership."

"Which you broke," Crowley snapped. "Also, your brat roasted me _alive_ a few minutes ago. I am in _no _mood for handing out favors. So what is your offer in exchange for my help?"

I think on it. There has to be something other than my soul I can offer Crowley. "Demons enjoy the human world, do they not? What if I could find a way to return your humanity? You would be able to stay permanently as a human again."

Crowley arched an eyebrow.

"You miss being human, don't you?"

"Not particularly. No. Besides, that is something that is _out of your hands_, Angel. You cannot offer me humanity. I made my choice centuries ago. I've accepted it."

"I know who can."

Crowley laughed.

"You think He'll listen to _you_? He is the one who made you fall. He _ripped _off your wings. You stand before me a broken man. No different than the maggots I deal with downstairs. So think carefully, Castiel. What will you give me?"

I turn on my heel and head back up stairs.

"Well?"

"There is nothing I have that I am willing to give for your help," I growl. "Forget I asked." I close the door to the basement behind me.

Sarah stands before me, the blindfold in her hand.

"Caleb, he doesn't know where Sam is."

"_I don't trust him. Why would you? Demons lie._"

"Not when they know the truth will hurt, nor when they're being tortured. You've caught him. He doesn't have what you need."

"_Then he is useless_," Caleb said. "_I'll go put him out of his misery_."

"Hold it, Princess," Dean said. Sarah looks at Dean. "He's useless to _you_. Not to us. Crowley's more useful to us alive."

Sarah shrugged out of his hold. "_For his sake, I hope you're right. I will dispose of him the moment his use runs out_."

"Fair enough," Dean said, backing off. Sarah grabbed her backpack from the couch and sat down, opening the bag. "What are you doing?"

"_Homework_," Caleb said, opening a small spiral notebook planner, "_What else would I be doing_?"

"School girl by day, demon interrogator by night," Dean muttered. "Sounds like something out of those Japanese cartoons."

"_I heard that_."

"Just do your homework…" Dean and I went to the kitchen. "So?"

"He won't help unless I offer him something."

"And?"

"After all the deals we've made with demons in the past, I figured it'd be something we would rather want to avoid. It's not worth it. You know it's not. Dean we'll find Sam. We'll just have to use a different method." I cut myself off, seeing Gabriel trying to sneak out the door. Why he'd use the door, I don't know. Why didn't I think of it before? "Gabriel!" I shout.

"I'm not staying here long enough for her to notice I'm still here," Gabriel hissed.

"Not that. I need a favor…as your brother."

"Can you find Sam?" Dean asked.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Yes, I can find him. But I want tickets to the Super Bowl."

"Gabriel, something we can afford would be nice," I say. Yes, I know about the Super Bowl. During Super Bowl Season, no hunter works on Sunday. They gather in sports bars and yell at the screen while players with large shoulder pads ram into each other trying to keep a ball from getting to one side's goal.

I don't entirely understand the thrill of it, but it's entertaining to watch grown men yell like monkeys at a television. And the commercials are just as entertaining.

"Done," Dean said, holding out his hand to Gabriel. They shook on it.

"Dean, we don't have the means to get the tickets."

"Sure we do. Couple of casinos, hustling pool…if we all pitch in, we can get enough tickets for the two of us, Sam and Bobby. Also, a guy who owes me works at the very stadium it'll be held at this year. He'll get us the tickets. All I have to do is pay him back."

"Really?" I ask. "How much do those tickets cost?"

Dean thought about it. He shrugged.

"Tickets to what?" Bobby asked.

"The Super Bowl," I say.

"The Super Bowl? Those tickets are about two thousand a pop. And those are the cheap ones."

Dean frowned, seeing the problem. It would cost more than anything we had to get _one_. How would he be able to pay off _five_?

"Okay," he said. "I'll figure it out…Maybe we can sneak in. I mean, we got an angel who still has his powers."

"That would be defeating the purpose."

"He'd still be able to go."

"Exactly, Dean. He asked for something impossible because he knows you can't pull it off. Especially not for five."

"You doubt I can do it?"

"Dean, be reasonable."

"No. I can do this!"

I sigh. "Fine, you're funeral. Get the tickets. Don't blame me if you're broke for the next twenty years."

"I will not be broke," Dean said, smirking. "I will get those tickets. But first things first: We need to get Sam." Dean turned to Gabriel. "Gabe, do you have our heading?"

"Will I get my tickets?"

"In due time, my friend, in due time."

Dean is going to get himself killed…again.

THIRTY-FIVE

"I'm not his guardian angel, so I can't sense him automatically," Gabriel explained. "We need to go to the last place we know for sure he was at."

We gathered our supplies and headed to the Galaxie, loading up. Sarah also packed a bag. Caleb explained that he could help Sam, so our only option was to bring Sarah and Caleb with us.

No one actually liked the idea, but there was no other real option: if Gabriel were to bring him back and secure him in the panic room while Sarah was at school, the situation could worsen.

We arrived in Pinon the next day and checked into a hotel.

Dean told the manager he was looking for his brother. He confirmed that Sam had indeed stayed there and showed us where he had stayed.

Sam left two mornings ago in the Impala and never returned.

"It's not my problem if people disappear for a while. Sometimes they get picked up by unfriendly people. I don't get involved in that stuff," that said, the manager left us to examine where Sam left off in his hunt. There were two words circled in one of his notes:

Hopi. Poison.

Beyond this, we had nothing. I hold the paper up. "Dean, does the word 'hopi' mean anything to you?"

Dean furrowed his brow. "No," he said slowly. "It sounds familiar though. I can't seem to…" Dean snapped his fingers. "I remember—the hopi prairie snake. Remember? You were the one looking up snakes."

And poison must mean that yuxa is poisonous.

"_We need to find out how many people have been poisoned in the last week_," Caleb said. "_Sam didn't finish the hunt, so we have to_."

"I thought our main priority was finding Sam," Gabriel said.

"_This hunt is our first priority_," Caleb snapped. "_People could die_."

"People will die anyway."

"We can at least let them die peacefully when their ninety rather than be poisoned by a renegade yuxa trying to find a fuck buddy," Dean said with an air of finality. "First we need to find out if there are any vics. No vics, no case. Cas and I will be Agents Booth and Brennan."

Sarah snorted. "_Bad idea_."

"Why?"

"_Because it's straight out of _Bones."

"I know. We have ID's with those names. And they're legit names."

"_Not to fans. They'll call your bluff sooner than you think. Do you have Anderson and Redd_?"

"We do."

"_I'd go with those_," Sarah leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest and a smug smile on her lips.

"Sarah—"

"_Caleb_."

"Whatever. You look like Sarah," Dean said, brushing Caleb aside. "I've been doing this much longer than you have."

"_The only people in this room that can even claim such a thing is my father and my uncle, Dean, but go ahead. Disregard my advice because I'm currently in the body of a fourteen year old girl_."

"Caleb," I begin.

"_What? You'd be snippy too if you went through puberty a million times_," Caleb snapped. He turned away from us, muttering: "_I hate it when I'm assigned a girl. It's painful_."

Though I do not verbally answer, my pity extends.

"There's just one flaw in the plan," Dean announces. "Cas."

I blink. The last time I impersonated a federal officer didn't go as well as planned, but I thought Dean had covered it quite well for the both of us.

"We can't have what happened last time happen again. Gabriel, you're going to help."

"I'll be your goofy teethed cop."

"No."

"With an accent."

"_No._ Just be normal, Gabe."

"I think it'd be more productive if Caleb was the cop we get information from. Normal is nowhere in Gabriel's vocabulary," I suggest. Dean actually thinks on it.

"Caleb?"

"_I'm cool with it_," he said, standing. I'd go into detail of what happened, but the next four hours were extremely strenuous. Lots of laughter, lots of slip ups. It was like a television show gag reel.

But by the end, I could play a "fed" perfectly. And tomorrow, we'd visit Pinon's police station.


	19. 36 and 37

THIRTY-SIX

Dean and I approached the secretary.

"Good morning," Dean said. "Agents Redd and Anderson." We showed our badges. "We heard there was a strange case of poisoning."

"Yes," the secretary said. "I'll let the chief know you're here," she picked up her phone. "Chief Vick. Two agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigations about the poisoning incidents…Okay, I will." She hung up. "Please follow me, agents."

The secretary led us to the Chief's office and we were greeted at the door. "Agents," he said, holding his hand for us to shake. "Please come in."

"I'm glad we could get someone down here who might have a better idea of what's going on, but we do have an idea of what we're dealing with."

"And what are you thinking?" Dean asked.

"Murder, plain and simple. The victims were last seen at the Hopi Cultural Center. Closest thing to a bar you'll get in this place."

"My partner and I would like to see it for ourselves," I say. "After we examine the bodies."

The chief's eyebrows rose up his forehead.

"To better determine the cause of death."

"I figured you'd know."

"We read the report," I lie, "We would just like to hear it in person and see for ourselves. It's hard to believe that anyone could contract poison from a snake without being bit."

"And it sounds strange that someone could get close to a venomous snake without getting bitten themselves."

"Well, it is possible," Chief Vick said, "If you cut off the head, you can preserve the venom. Besides, we combed the bodies finely. No bites on them. Not even a pinprick. They ingested the poison somehow. Probably while at the HCC." He stood, "If you'd follow me, agents."

Chief Vick led us to the morgue and pulled out both victims for us. He left us alone while we examined the first victim: John Gates.

"Well, the only weird thing about this is he's been poisoned with snake venom. I thought there'd be more vics."

"She's scared," I say, "Especially if she's killing potential mates. If she realizes that it's too much of a risk, she'll be staying low. What do you know about mermaid legends?"

"Not much."

"Yuxa," I continue, "are similar to a type of mermaid called a selkie, who are seals that can shed their seal skin and become human. Sometimes, they marry human men. Yuxa are very similar. If from the right snake, yuxa are potentially harmless. Of course, we know more about selkie than we do yuxa."

"Do you have a point?"

"Killing these men was not something she wants or means to do. She wants to mate with them. Venomous or not, she's still an animal, not a monster. She wasn't created by Eve."

"Don't snakes lash out when they're frightened?" Dean asked.

"Only if they feel cornered," I answer. We put John back and check the other victim, Robert Hansen.

Same M.O., so we decide visit the Hopi Cultural Center.

"Well, I wish you luck gentlemen. The owners of the HCC aren't too friendly with feds."

We thanked the chief and left.

"Okay, if these people aren't friendly with feds, we don't go in as feds. We go in as customers," Dean said, getting into the passenger's side of the Galaxie, "so we got to change into our civis."

"Why?"

"If we go around in suits and saying we're feds, they won't give us any information on what happened to the vics."

We leave the parking lot and return to the hotel.

"_I should go with you then_," Caleb suggested as we changed. "_So should Gabriel_."

"Caleb, we're working."

"_You want to be believable don't you_?"

Dean glared at me. Did he blame me for something? I wonder why? I'm not taking any sides. "Caleb, I think you should stay here. _With _Gabriel."

"What?" Gabriel snapped. "I'm going! I already spent most of the day getting my butt kicked at Uno."

"_Not my fault you suck_," Caleb muttered.

"Caleb, we'd feel better if you stayed here," I say, "Where it's safe."

That was the wrong thing to say. Caleb isn't a child. The anger in his face distorts Sarah's features. She starts gagging and white smoke exits her throat. It takes on corporeal form of a man around thirty years of age. The same man from before when we had rescued Sarah from Meg.

Angry blue eyes stare into mine. Dean seemed surprised.

"_You want to run that by me again_?" he growled. "_I'd choose your words carefully, Dad. I'm going. Now, I can go with you inside my vessel. Or I can go with you as I am now_."

"I thought angels killed people if they saw their real form," Dean said. "Wouldn't it be the same for half-angels?"

"_Don't change the topic_," Caleb shouted. His voice echoed around the room. Dean and I had to support ourselves on something, our human weakness overcoming us again. And Caleb wasn't even a full angel, only half.

"Okay," I say slowly, trying to regain my ability to stand tall. "Regardless of your power, Caleb, or whatever authority you have been given, you are still my son and you _will_ obey me." Caleb narrowed his eyes at me, daring me to defy his decision. "You will stay here with Sarah. Gabriel will come with us."

Caleb shook, enraged. But he knew he could do nothing: the commandments are clear. Even if he didn't want to stay, he had to.

THIRTY-SEVEN

I sat a few feet away and ordered a beer. Dean sat in the center. Gabriel was chatting up with the hostess.

"Strange stuff happening in town," Dean said. The bartender looked at him sternly, unsure what to make of him.

"What do you mean by 'strange'?"

"I heard about the deaths. Snake poisoning, right?"

The bartender shrugged defensively. "I wouldn't know. I may have seen them the night they disappeared. Tourists come here from all over the place, sometimes they vanish and were last seen here. It's troubling, but if you—"

"Sorry, I wasn't implying anything," Dean said, picking up his beer glass. "I was just trying to make some small talk. Actually, I'm looking for my brother," he took out a picture of Sam and handed it to the bartender. "Has he been here?"

The bartender studied the photo briefly. "Yes," he said, returning it to Dean. "He was here about two days ago. Jumpy fellow. I felt sorry for him." Dean furrowed his brow. I was thinking the same: Sam is anything _but _jumpy. "He's your brother?"

"Yes."

"He asked a couple questions about the murders, but he seemed to be unable to make sense of anything. He kept talking to himself. Once I heard him say, 'This is real' over and over again, as though he was having trouble gripping onto reality."

Dean cleared his throat. He looked pale. I felt horribly guilty. "Yeah, he went on vacation for a while and forgot to refill his meds. I just have to find him and I'm a little worried that whoever is killing people may have gotten to him."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry then, we think we know who the killer is. She's not from around here and we've tried to get the police down here to do something about it, but she's evasive. I got a picture of her anyway, to show my customers, make sure they steer clear."

"The killer's a woman?" Dean asked, feigning shock. The bartender handed him the photo. Dean studied it."She doesn't look like she could harm people."

"They never do."

"I suppose," Dean said, paying for the drink.

"Good luck finding your bother."

"Thanks, man."

A few minutes passed by and we met outside by the Galaxie again. Dean seized me, pinning me against the car.

"Dean, what the hell," Gabriel said, startled.

"This is your fault!" Dean shouted. "If anything happens to Sam, it's on you, Cas! It's on you!"

"Dean, I am sorry," I say.

"Oh, well that makes it better then, doesn't it? Sorry isn't good enough! Sam could die while we're wasting time on this case!"

"Hey! That's enough!" Gabriel shouted, pulling Dean off me. "We'll find Sam and everything will all right. Dean, you need to calm down and focus. We get the yuxa; then find the Impala. Maybe I'll be able to pick up a better signal of where Sam may have gone after that."

Dean tried to pull out of Gabriel's grasp, but Gabriel held on tighter.

"Hey! You need to cool down. Deep breaths, count back from ten. Whatever helps that won't get anyone killed."

Dean refused to listen, so Gabriel touched his forehead and he vanished.

"I sent him back to the hotel. Maybe he'll calm down then with Caleb keeping an eye on him. Maybe," Gabriel said. "Cas, what did he mean it's your fault if anything happens to Sam?"

I tell him what I had done the previous year. Gabriel listened silently. He shook his head.

"You'd make a terrible god, Cas."

"You're not a god either."

"No, but a trickster god is a bit different from what you've done. I admit I've killed, but they were always people who _thought _they'd get away with what they've done. You knew that Sam's soul was unstable and you still broke that wall. It might not kill Sam, but it's still much worse than anything I've done. He may have been hallucinating for a long time now, but it's been getting worse and now that there's no one around to help him keep his grip on reality, those hallucinations are getting worse."

Even my own brother was angry at me, though he did not sound it. Gabriel clapped my shoulder.

"But we'll fix this. It's fine. I'm sure Sam at least will forgive you…and I already have. I'd give Dean some space, a little time to cool his head. In the meantime, we have a brown eyed brunette to find." Gabriel said, tapping my head, sending me an image of the girl. "I got the image from Dean's memory."

"I _know _how you got it, Gabriel," I snap.

I am in no mood for Gabriel's jokes.

The sooner we find the yuxa, the better.

I can't shake this desire to fix things with Dean, but at the moment, that would be impossible.

* * *

So the commandments referred to are the 10 commandments, which I would suspect to be older than we assume them to be, especially in this story. Cas is referring to the Sixth Commandment, which is listed in Exodus 20:12, "Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you."

Gabriel isn't actually mad at Cas for what he's done, even though it's understandable to be mad at Cas.

As for where the romance in the story has gone, it will come back, I promise you.


	20. 38, and 39

THIRTY-EIGHT

Gabriel and I returned to the hotel. Dean was not there.

Caleb was back in Sarah's body, reading at the table with a large text book next to a notebook, tapping the pen against the paper.

"_He left the moment he realized he was here_," he tells us. "_I don't know where he went. What happened_?"

"Nothing good," I say. "We know what the yuxa looks like, so now we just have to find her."

"_Show her to me, I can help_."

Before I could stop him, Gabriel already gave Caleb the image.

"_We know her hunting ground, so I have a suggestion_," Caleb said, "_We go there as a family, planning to have dinner there, but we get a place close to the bar since that's where she strikes. I sincerely doubt she's intelligent enough to come disguised. When we see her, I'll excuse myself and Gabriel goes over to talk to her. When they leave together, Cas and I will try to circle the two of you_."

"Cornering a snake? That's your master plan?" Gabriel asked. "That's insanity."

"_Which is why it will work_," Caleb said, grinning. "_She may be thinking of finding a new point of interest, but for now, the HCC is still her territory. The men were killed when_?"

"About nine pm each night," I say.

"_She may be there at seven, then. That's enough time for people to hook up_."

Gabriel scoffed, smirking. "Please, I can get it done in an hour."

It seemed a bit quick to me, but I suppose that was why Gabriel would be approaching the yuxa and not me. Caleb checked the clock. "_Do we need reservations_?"

"No."

"_Then we should try to get there at least fifteen minutes early. Which means_," Caleb looked at the books in front of him, "_I should be able to get this done before we go_."

"Really, Caleb?" Gabriel said. "Homework?"

"_I've been a straight A student since schools were **invented**. I have a reputation to maintain. Last time I was here, I was able to graduate from Harvard before my vessel gave out. Pity we didn't make it past twenty-three. I would have made a great lawyer_."

"Why didn't you?" I asked.

"_My vessel died at the post-grad party. His death was blamed on too much alcohol consumption. But I know better. He was too happy to contain himself…and me. The mission was done. I didn't care. Still, would have been nice to make it to thirty for once…_"

Caleb returned to the books, his pen moved across the paper.

"I don't think there's anything sadder than that," Gabriel muttered.

I walk toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To find Dean," I say, closing the door behind me before either of them could stop me. I turn my phone on and call him. Maybe he'd answer.

He didn't. I hang up and pocket my phone, frustration overwhelming me.

It used to be so simple. All I had to do was think of Dean and I would find him, whether I needed him or he needed me. It didn't matter—I could find him with ease when I still had my powers. How am I supposed to find Dean when I don't have my powers?

My phone rang and I answered.

"_What the hell are you idjits doing_?" Bobby berated me.

"I beg your pardon?"

"_I just got a call from the Pinon cops. They picked Dean up, completely pissed_."

Oh, that can't be good. "I'll go get him." I hang up and get into my car, driving to the police station all the while coming up with a good story. The best seemed to be to tell them that it was a lapse in judgment since he's been going through a rough divorce.

I posted his bail as smoothly as possible, but I did have to use my story of the very bad divorce before getting him to the car.

"Where are we going?" Dean asked.

"To the hotel," I answer, turning the car on. "And this time, you're going to stay there."

"Whatta 'bout the yuc…yux…snake thing?"

"The situation is under control, Dean. The only thing you should do is get some sleep."

"Not tired."

"Just stay in the hotel room," I snap. "Just keep the door closed and lay down on the bed."

Dean wasn't listening. He was already asleep.

I don't get out of the car immediately after arriving to the hotel. I lean close to Dean's ear. "I can't apologize enough for what I did to Sam. But I am sorry. I love you, Dean." He won't remember in the morning, but I didn't care.

I help him inside and set him on the bed.

A few minutes later, I locked Dean inside the hotel while Gabriel and Caleb climbed into the car.

THIRTY-NINE

The yuxa sits alone at the bar. The bartender from earlier is gone, having been replaced by a different man. Caleb excuses himself. After a few minutes, Gabriel also leaves, heading toward the bar.

I watch long enough before also leaving, finding Caleb out front.

"_I'll keep an eye on Gabriel's progress_," Caleb says. "_You follow them in the car when they come out_." I am unnerved by the directness of the order. Sarah slumps her shoulders, "_**Please**_, Dad," Caleb begs, "_Don't argue. The sooner we get this done, the better_."

I head to the car in quick, angry strides. I am tired of Caleb's callous attitude. I am tired of the guilt I carry for mistakes I made in my past. How long will I have to beg forgiveness?

"Must be tiring."

I turn to the passenger's seat. My Brother sits there, a bag of salted peanuts in his hand.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, I sensed a disturbance in the force."

I look at him, confused. "Force? What force? Are we under attack?"

My Brother blinks at me. "Seriously? You've never seen _Star Wars_?"

I'm confused, but it sounds familiar. "Is that the show where the characters greet each other with 'live long and prosper'?"

"No, that's _Star Trek_. It's 'may the force be with you.' Yoda, the little green crazy guy. Luke Skywalker…at least tell me you've heard of Darth Vader."

"Get out of my car."

"You really are on edge. Want to talk about it."

"No."

My Brother nods. "Look, Castiel, I get it, you're frustrated. You're son is border-lining on hatred of your very being for his own reasons that he hasn't come to terms with. Your past keeps biting you in the ass in ways you never thought of. But you know what the great thing about you is, Castiel. You don't let it drag you down and you learn from your mistakes."

"If you have a point, make it."

"Patience, Young Padawan. Anger and despair you let drag you down."

"What did you just call me?"

"Padawan means student. Currently, that is what you are, and I will gladly refer to myself as your Jedi Master for now. Think of me as the Yoda to your Obi-Wan Kanobi…or the Obi-Wan Kanobi to your Luke Skywalker. Whichever you prefer."

"You don't know what I'm going through."

"Au contraire, I do. Mouthy kid. Angry friend who is possibly your soon-to-be boyfriend. Annoying big brothers. Anyone's force would be disturbed. Especially with all the anger you're carrying right now. All you have to do is say the word: 'Brother, please help me deal with my anger. My son's being mouthy. One of my friend's is missing, probably dead in a ditch or in the loony bin, which is a step above from ditch, and his brother whom I've got romantic feelings toward currently hates my presence. I cannot deal with this. I need your help. Will you help me?'"

My Brother has always had an uncanny ability to know _exactly _what was going on in my mind. Currently I find it rather disturbing and extremely grating.

"I hit the nail, didn't I?"

"Yes." My Brother arches an eyebrow. "What?"

"Peanuts or stress relief? All you have to say is 'stress relief' and the anger will be gone, at least until you get so angry you want to commit murder again."

"Don't you speak through people's loved ones?"

"I do. You probably wouldn't listen to any of them at the moment. You certainly didn't when you went looking for purgatory with Crowley. Fun guy, bit of a nut-job, I like him. Still wish he turned a leaf in life though. He'd be entertaining upstairs as much as he is down here."

"I will deal with my anger myself," I snap at him.

"Being snippy doesn't say 'dealing.' It says 'bitchy.'"

"Okay, I know you're God. I get it. I was wrong to try and take over Heaven and Earth."

"A demon can tell you that I'm God. It's very sad when angels can't. But your son, the other Nephilim…why do _you_ think they're sent back to earth as Emere to fulfill a mission I have given them?"

I furrow my brow. I never bothered to wonder.

"Each mission they complete brings them closer to becoming full blooded angels. And this is Caleb's last mission. Regardless of his performance, he will become a Seraph after his mission is fulfilled."

I laugh. "A Seraph? Seraphim are mythical. They don't exist." My Brother does not smile. "You're serious? It's impossible for Seraphim to exist."

"You used to be so ready to believe in the impossible. What holds you back now is your inability to grasp the magnitude of my power. A lot of people seem to think that much of what I do is impossible. To be honest, impossible isn't in my vocabulary. I don't know the meaning of the word."

I spot Gabriel leave the restaurant with the yuxa on his arm.

"Good luck with this one," My Brother says. The next moment, I feel a chill and he's gone. I get out of the car and follow them. For a while, on the other side of the street is Caleb.

Gabriel leads her down a street and Caleb turns the corner sharply, going down another street, possibly to cut them off.

I stay at one end of the street. The yuxa stops.

"What's wrong?" Gabriel asks.

"Who are you? You're not like the others. You don't smell human."

"Wow, you're sharper than I thought."

"What do you want with me?"

"Look, Erin, calm down. I know what you are. You're not human either and I know that the guys that picked you up at the bar back there, they died, but I know it was an accident."

Erin the yuxa tries to run, but I step out of the shadows. "Two men are already dead," I say. "You really think we can let you live."

"But it was an accident. I didn't mean to kill them," she said, whimpering. I can see her eyes blaze yellow in the darkness. She turns around and lunges at Gabriel, knocking him off his feet. I rush over to them, but someone beats me to them, pulling Erin off, slicing her head off with a sword of sorts.

Caleb smirks at us.

"_If not for the small talk that would have been the perfect distraction_."

"Took your sweet time, I almost got bit by that fanged bitch."

"_She's not a bitch_," Caleb said. "_Just a scared animal. Pity we had to put her down_." Caleb handed the sword to Gabriel and picked up Erin's head. "_She was a beautiful creature_."

He was holding the head of a very large snake.

* * *

See, a little romance came back (with a little theology), just as I promised. More will return.

A sidenote: what do you think of Jesus quoting and using Star Wars references? )


	21. 40 and 41

FORTY

Dean vomited in the bathroom. It sounded wretched. "You're sure we got the yuxa?"

"I was there," Caleb assured him. "_I cut the head off myself. I wanted to bring it with me, but we all agreed that damaging the Galaxie's upholstery was cardinal_."

Gabriel snickered. I leaned against the wall, watching Dean. He looked like hell: pasty white skin and bags under his usually white, but now reddish pink eyes.

"How's the puke? No, scratch that. How's your _head_? Whatever it is you had yesterday, I bet it was worth it."

Dean flipped him off.

"_I found the Impala_," Caleb said. "_It's at the police impound. Abandoned, no less with the keys locked inside. We can get the car back, but we'll need to pay up_."

There was silence. Did any of us have enough money to get the Impala back?

"And someone still needs to be able to get my Super Bowl tickets."

"How much is it?"

"_We have to ask the police_," Caleb said. "_Gabe, this is a job for you_."

"Yes, Ma'am. Or is it Sir? In a body like that, you can never tell."

"Shut up," Dean growled from the toilet. He pushed on the switch and the toilet flushed. "Someone please tell me we have a stash of painkillers somewhere or, so help me, I will start shooting people."

Caleb grabbed Sarah's bag and fished through it. He pulled out a bottle and tossed it to Dean. He caught it and looked at it. "Midol?"

Caleb turned back to the purse and pulled out another bottle. "_Sorry about that. That's a very specific medication and I don't know what the side effects would be if taken by a guy, but I'm sure it wouldn't be pretty_."

"Probably not," Gabriel said, taking the Midol bottle from Dean. Caleb handed Dean the other bottle and snatched the Midol from Gabriel.

"I take it your period is soon?" Gabriel asked.

"Whoa!" Dean said, his face going from white to pink in seconds, "There are two things guys do not talk about when in the room together: one, porn; two, a woman's time of the month."

"_Not mine_," Caleb said, "_Sarah's_."

"Hey! Hey! What did I just say? We don't talk about periods!"

"_Then are we allowed to talk about ejaculation_?" Caleb asked, "_Or are you uncomfortable about that too? They're normal bodily functions, Dean. People who find it gross are immature and possibly closet perverts_."

"Excuse me, but I'm sure every guy in this room is a_ very _open pervert on some level," Gabriel said. "Right, Dean?"

"I'm not comfortable talking about this in front of a little girl who may become a nightmare at any moment. Can we go get my car now?"

"_I'm not a little girl_," Caleb said. "_Just in the body of one_."

"Do you ever listen to yourself?" Dean asked. "That was just wrong." He paused and turned around heading back into the bathroom. A moment later, he was retching again.

"_This is going to be a long day_," Caleb said.

Dean took the ibuprofen and Gabriel left. While we were eating breakfast, Gabriel called. I put him on speaker.

"_I got your car back, Dean, I'm taking it back to the hotel now. Oh, about the Super Bowl tickets_—"

"We'll see you back at the hotel, Gabriel," I snap, hanging up.

"Really?" We turn in our seats to Gabriel. "You hang up on me? That's rude. Anyway, I got a lead on your brother while at the station. And your car does not lie."

Dean stared at Gabriel intently.

"You're brother left the car and went to Albuquerque, New _Meh-hi-co_. Said bus station it left from reeks of Sam's aura too. I found the bus and it turns out that Sammy took another bus this time to L.A., California. That bus indicates something a little violent happened along the way close to Sam's destination."

"What?" Dean asked, almost breathless from the news. It seemed to me miraculous that Dean could speak at all in this situation.

"An episode of sorts. The bus got pulled over in San Clemente and Sam was dragged off. He's at a hospital's mental ward: Sovereign Health of California. Depending on mode of transportation, we can get there tonight or we can get there in two seconds. You're call."

Can you get us there in two seconds with the cars?"

"Alas, no. I did try once. Magic plus cars equals explosions. Fun, but gory."

Dean drummed his fingers against the table. "We'll take the cars."

"Okay, but you're not driving," Gabriel said. "I am."

"I don't trust you with my car!" Dean shouted. "I don't trust him with my car…where is my car. What did you do to my baby?"

"Relax, it's at the hotel already. I drove it over there before calling. I'm hurt by your lack of faith in me. And you're not driving because you're still under the influence and you're not thinking straight at the moment with all the worry for your baby brother. In the rush we're in, I'm surprised you haven't run out of here yet."

"You're not helping, Gabriel," I say. "Dean, what if I drove the Impala?"

Dean nodded. "I'd be more comfortable with that."

"Gabriel, if anything happens to the Galaxie, I will personally take you out. I know where the swords are."

"It was already agreed to be a cardinal sin to ruin your car, Cas. I would _never _do something so cruel and unforgivable…okay, I would. But I won't."

"_I'm riding with Gabe_," Caleb said.

"Can we at least finish breakfast first?" Dean asks, stabbing his waffles.

FORTY-ONE

As soon as visiting hours start, we arrive to the hospital.

"Hi, Christy," Dean said to the startled receptionist, "We're family to Sam Winchester. He was checked in here recently. He's in the psych ward."

Christy's nails clicked against the keyboard.

"Okay, Sam Winchester. How are you related?"

"He's my little brother." Christy looked past Dean at us. "They're cousins," he said. "We're a close family. Can we please go see how he's doing?"

"Yes, but I think you'd want to talk to Dr. Destler first. Sam's case is rather unique…I'll let the doctor explain. Here are your visitor passes," she hands out the clip on badges to Dean. "The psych ward for schizophrenia is on the third floor. You're brother should be in an appointment right now."

Dean thanks her and we head upstairs.

"This is a rather nice place for crazy people," Gabe mumbles, admiring the swimming pool from out of one of the windows. We ignore him and continue on our way to the third floor.

Dean stops a nurse and to ask where we could find Dr. Destler. After another five minutes of searching, we arrive at Destler's office. Dean pauses, listening.

"What is it?" I ask. Dean shushes me. I press my ear to the door.

"Sam, whatever is going on right now, you can trust me. This is a safe place to talk."

No answer.

"Okay, would you like to tell me what happened on the bus? You said you were running from something. What were you running from?"

Sam still did not speak.

Dean and I straightened and Dean rammed his hand fist against the door, which opened. Dr. Destler was a tall, lanky man.

"May I help you?"

"Dean Winchester, Sam's brother."

"I got the call. Your cousins will have to stay in my lobby, but I think you might be able to help me get through to your brother."

"Yeah, no problem."

I get a quick glimpse at Sam. He doesn't seem to have lost his mind. But he doesn't look up and his lip are moving quickly and silently. I watch them move until I am able to decipher what he is saying: _This is not real. _

While Dean stays with Sam, Gabriel, Caleb, and I are led to Destler's lounge.

"Well, we found him," Gabriel said. "What now? He doesn't seem to be a mess."

"_He is a mess_," Caleb said. "_It's gotten too far. I'll have to perform surgery to fix it_."

Surgery?

"Huh?"

"_It's a type of cleansing, exactly like an actual operation. Except I'll have to operate on Sam's soul_," Caleb swallows. "_Which means, I'm going to have to remove his soul in order to fix it_."

"That could kill him."

"He lived one year without a soul," I said. "He'll be fine without it, but what do you mean 'operate.' Souls are not organs."

"_In this case, it is very much like an organ. And Sam's is like a ruptured appendix, except it has to go back in after it's removed. And if one thing goes wrong and his soul implodes, then he will die_."

"The body can exist without the soul."

"_No, it can't. Souls can be twisted and distorted, but if the soul dies, then so does the body it belongs to. The soul can exist without the body. Not the other way around. I can do it, but I'll need very special tools and a very secluded place. We need to get Sam out of here ASAP. And getting Sam out of here…that's the easy part_."

"And the tools?"

"_They're in Heaven. With Claude_."

"Claude?" Gabriel asked.

"_Claudios_," Caleb said. "_Yeah, same Claudios I'm talking about Uncle Gabe. I can get in touch with him, and I can pray that he's in a sympathetic mood enough to let me have those tools_."

"I'll get them," Gabriel said. The last time I had seen him this dark, we had reunited the day he sent Sam and Dean into that television world where they were forced to be the characters.

Gabriel vanished.

"You had to bring up Claudios?" I asked.

"_I didn't want to. I had hoped I wouldn't need to take Sam's soul out to fix it, but now I do and the only one I know who can get Claude to hand over those tools is Gabriel. You agree. In the same situation, I would have to do the same if you came to me with such a request_."

"Why?"

"_Because there are two people we answer to without question: our Lord and Master, and our parents. The commandments are clear and the commandments are our code. I may be angry at you forever for abandoning Mom, but I am bound to obey you except for one rare occasion, and that is if our Lord tells us to do otherwise. His command is the only command that can override yours and Mom's_."

The door to Dr. Destler's office opened. Sam and Dean came out.

We stood and followed Dean and Sam out of the office.

"Please tell me you're real," Sam said to us.

"_Sam_," Caleb said, taking his hands in Sarah's. "_This is real. It will be okay. We're going to fix it. Do you trust me_?"

Sam stared at Caleb for a long time. He nodded.


	22. 42 and 43

FORTY-TWO

Sam's room was actually rather nice.

"It was fine at first," Sam said to us, "Just a few flashes, forgetting where I was for a couple seconds at a time…I think it was because Dean was around that I didn't lose it sooner. But after I arrived at Pinon, the visions got worse. I was working on the case, looking around, but then that first day, everything just went out of my head."

Sam swallowed. "I saw Lucifer everywhere. He always talked to me, telling me that I'm still in Hell, that none of what I was seeing was real. I don't remember what I was thinking at the time, but I left without finishing the job."

"_Don't worry about the job, we've already taken care of it_," Caleb said soothingly. "_What happened after that_?"

"I decided to run, maybe I could outrun the devil. But what happened instead was he found me at the bus station, so I made it look as though I was getting a ticket back northbound but instead went on a bus to California. But he found me on the bus.

"I shouldn't have acted out, but I began shouting at him. I scared the others and the bus driver pulled over. Some people tried to calm me down, someone called the police. A few minutes later, I was arrested and they thought I was a schizophrenic, so they brought me here. I'm supposed to be transferred to a more government affiliated place tomorrow morning."

Caleb looked around at us.

"_Lucifer's powers are strong, but nothing is more powerful than our Lord_," Caleb said. "_Sam, do you know the Lord's Prayer_?"

Dean scoffed.

"You're serious? The Lord's Prayer?"

"_Lucifer may be using Sam's memories of Hell, these flashbacks, to drive him mad. So far, it's working, but the one thing Lucifer cannot stand is being reminded who God is and seeing him be praised. He rebelled against God and says he loved God too much, but he actually doesn't love God at all. Out of all the angels, who did he hate the most_?"

I understand: Lucifer had always had an issue with Our Brother. Jealousy of sorts that Our Brother was the eldest, the one who could freely see God without conflict arising.

"_And after our Lord came to earth as a human, Lucifer hated him all the more. He was furious when our Lord defeated him on the cross. So, with that in mind, I suggest that you think of the Lord's Prayer as a warding spell against Lucifer. It doesn't matter what language it is in, it will work_."

"I don't know what the prayer is."

"_Take my hands in yours_," Caleb said, holding out Sarah's hands. "_And repeat after me: Our Father, who art in Heaven_,"

"Our Father, who art in Heaven."

"_Hallowed be thy name_."

"Hallowed be thy name."

The lights flickered violently.

"_SHUT UP!"_

"_Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done_."

"Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done."

A lamp fell over. Outside the weather became extremely dark.

"_On Earth as it is in Heaven_."

"On Earth as it is in Heaven.

"_STUPID GIRL! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I COMMAND YOU TO STOP!"_

"_Give us this day our daily bread_."

"Give us this day our daily bread."

Dean began to gag, holding his throat. "_I WILL KILL HIM!"_

"_And forgive us of our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us_."

"_SAM, BE SILENT! CEASE THIS USELESS JABBERING AND I WILL SPARE YOUR BROTHER'S LIFE!"_

Sam stared at Dean, frightened. Caleb squeezed his hands. "_Sam_!" He shouted. "_He's bluffing, We're almost done, keep praying!_"

"And forgive us of our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."

"_Lead us not into temptation, but DELIVER US FROM EVIL_!"

The window broke and the wind howled.

"—DELIVER US FROM EVIL!" Sam shrieked.

"_FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM, AND THE POWER, AND THE GLORY_!" Sam and Caleb shouted together, Sam just one word behind him. "_AMEN_!"

The chaos outside ended. The door was rammed open and Dr. Destler came in, followed by two orderlies.

"What happened? We heard shouting."

"_The window broke_," Caleb said, "_We're fine. Sam's fine. We'll get out of your way_."

"How are you feeling, Sam?" Dr. Destler asked him. Sam shrugged.

"Let's get out of their way, Sam, so they can get a better look at the window," Dean said.

"Okay," Sam stood and we followed him out and to the cafeteria.

"So, Caleb. Does that thing work like an exorcism?"

"_Yeah_," Caleb said. "_I wouldn't know if it's any more effective than any other exorcism, but it's particularly useful when Lucifer is around. But we only have a short window before he comes back. We have to get out of here soon_."

"Would it matter?" Sam asked. "He'll find me again."

"_That doesn't mean you're not protected or loved. God is not the deadbeat dad you all think he is. He does not abandon his children, but encourages them to grow and figure things out for themselves, like any good father, he does not leave us, but he does not do our work for us. If the need arises, he will stretch out his hand and save his children, but only if needed. Come on, let's go eat_."

FORTY-THREE

"So you plan to sneak me out?"

"_Yes_," Caleb answered. "_And after we do that, I'll be operating on your soul_."

Sam arched an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I trust you enough to 'operate' on my soul, Sarah."

"It's actually Caleb, right now," Dean said. "Sarah's…currently…"

"Incapacitated," I finish. "Seeing her parent's bodies, their death, it wounded her, so Caleb's been in control of her body since we left Harlowton."

"_My mission is to fix your soul_."

"What about the Crowley thing?"

"_You mean getting rid of the King of Hell? That's just a bonus. It doesn't have to be done. But he is still a demon, regardless of the self-bestowed titles he gives himself. I just want to get rid of him because he's an asshole_."

I find that quite understandable.

"Fair enough," Dean said. "But still, how do we get Sam out of here?"

"_We could try checking him out_?" Caleb said.

"And when I don't come back, they'll send an M.P. report out for me: 'Crazy guy escapes California Loony Bin. Approach with caution, he may bite.'" Sam said sarcastically. Dean snickered.

Gabriel returned, holding an attaché.

"_Perfect_," Caleb said, "_There are no words to express my gratitude_."

"Not a problem. As for getting Sam out of here, we just need a well placed illusion of Sam to trick the orderlies into thinking he's still around. It'll last for about…three days tops."

"_That would be more than enough time_," Caleb says. "_Things are going much better than I expected_."

"Well, first off," Gabriel said, handing the attaché to Caleb. Then he touched Sarah's and Sam's foreheads. They vanished and were replaced by two illusions.

"There," he said, "we're done. Can we go?"

His reunion with Claudios must have been as bad as mine with Caleb…the illusion Sam and Sarah followed us out. We bade illusion Sam goodbye and headed to the car.

"Where do you think he sent them?" Dean asked.

"Hopefully somewhere they'll be able to do what needs to be done in peace."

Our hotel room had been turned into an operating room.

"Caleb?" I shout.

"Sam?"

"In here," Sam said. He was strapped down to a table with an IV drip already attached to his arm. Caleb was preparing a shot.

"What's going on?"

"_Relax_," Caleb said, "_this is anesthesia. He won't feel a thing for a few hours_."

"But if this is a surgery shouldn't Sam's stomach be—"

"_This isn't a standard surgery. It's very rare procedure and very few people have to undergo it. Only someone with angel blood can perform it since we're the only ones who can remove the soul from the body. The IV drip is to make sure his body doesn't dehydrate while I operate on his soul_."

Caleb approached Sam with the anesthesia. "_Ready_?"

"Yes."

She stuck the needle in Sam's arm and we waited, watching Sam's eyelids droop. Finally he was asleep. Caleb took out a pair of tongs that had Enochian symbols etched into the metal.

"_I need the two of you to leave the room. I can't perform at my best if I'm watched and this is a risky enough procedure_."

"Please tell me you've done this before." Dean said.

"_Only three have. I'm lucky enough to be one of them. Now, please. Leave_."

I steer Dean out of the room, glancing back only long enough to see the tongs stick into Sam's stomach and pull out his soul.

Where Gabriel had gone since we returned, I do not know. Dean went to the Impala and opened the back grabbing a couple of beers from the cooler. He hands one to me.

All we could do now was wait until Caleb was finished. Curiosity tugged at the back of my mind. What was it like to operate on a soul as damaged as Sam's?

"He'll be okay, right?" Dean asked.

"Do you trust Caleb?" I ask.

"Sometimes. But it's hard to think of him as something other than a child."

"I understand. I am going to put my faith in Caleb's capability to handle the situation."

"Then I'll trust him, too."

There was a bright flash of light from inside. Dean tried to go inside, but I stopped him, pulling him back. Dean sat back down on the hood of the Impala and opened his beer can.

Hours passed, we waited, went to eat dinner.

Gabriel still did not return.

By midnight, the door to our hotel room opened and Caleb exited.

"_He's still asleep, but he'll wake up in the morning. Any damage to his soul is gone and he'll be fine. It'll be like all the anger, all the pollution done to it never happened_."

Dean jumped up and embraced Caleb. "Thank you."


	23. 44 and 45

FORTY-FOUR

"How sentimental." We turn to Crowley. Dean releases Caleb from the hug. "But I can't help but wonder how that's any more legal than being with an angel. Come on, the girl's not even legally an adult yet."

"_Is he expendable yet_?" Caleb asked.

"I wish," Dean muttered.

"Well, I was a bit irked that a twerp was able to capture and torture me, so I did a little digging around. Imagine my surprise when I learned that Righteous Caleb was once _my _own kid as well. I always thought Gavin was a bit of a strange brat growing up and now I know why. He was one of your partners years ago."

"_Yes, he was_," Caleb said. "_But that doesn't change the fact that you're still a gigantic asshole that is on my personal hit list_."

"Oh, don't be so hypocritical, Sweetheart. I've only got one word for you: Meg."

Sarah's fists clenched tightly, her knuckles turned white and her nostrils flared.

"I thought that'd get your attention. You were never the good little boy Daddy thinks you are."

"_Crowley, I advise you to shut up_," Caleb hissed.

"Duly noted," Crowley said, smirking. "I wondered where all those titillating romances Shakespeare wrote came from. They were from you, weren't they? _Romeo and Juliet? Antony and Cleopatra?_ Othello and Desmonda? Azazel's daughter and Castiel's son. He probably would have written that straight out if not for the whole Angel-Demon part. The Church would have had his head."

"_Actually it was written down_," Caleb admitted, "_By Homer, when I was his student. Shakespeare found the only copy and had it translated, it's been lost since. I'll admit I'm impressed you found it_.

"_You're right though, much of his romances were inspired by that tale, which happened years ago. Meg and I have not been together for ages. And for the record: I'm the one who killed her. And I'm still standing, aren't I? I have no intention of killing myself over a pointless love story. I haven't loved Meg for several millennia; it was a judgment lapse, as it always is when one tries to make a relationship with a demon work. And it was the biggest disaster I had ever gotten myself into_.

"_There are other living testimonies of what happens in demon-human relationships. One of them is currently sleeping, unaware as of yet of the peace he is now feeling_."

Crowley glanced at Sam. "Pity the story didn't take. It has a good moral lesson in it, doesn't it?"

"_That it does_."

Crowley smirked wider. "Now you and dear old dad have lots to talk about."

Caleb shook his head. "_What was your point in telling them this_?"

Crowley thought about for a moment. "Reminding you of your place in this group, I suppose. Maybe to give myself some insurance you won't come after me again. Until next time."

Crowley vanishes.

"_Before you say anything_," Caleb says to me and Dean, "_he wasn't lying. But it was so long ago, I tend to forget I ever was in love with her. We were enemies before, which was probably what drew us together and then we became enemies again after she and her family did their best to destroy Pompeii and succeeded_."

"Can you say anyone in this room is better?" I asked.

"_No_," Caleb scoffed. "_Definitely not_."

"Then who cares?"

"Just don't let it happen again," Dean said.

"_Speak for your brother, not me_."

Dean opened his mouth to retort. He closed it, finding nothing to say except, "Touché."

Caleb smiles and turns to Sam, leaning down to check something, Sarah's ponytailed hair draping over her shoulder as he does. I nudge Dean's arm and motioned to the door. We leave Caleb with Sam.

"What's up?"

"You don't remember anything from our last night in Pinon, do you?"

Dean furrowed his brow. "I could be wrong, maybe it was just a dream…I mean I was drunk. I do sort of remember…that you said you loved me."

So he did remember. I will never underestimate his memory when he's drunk again.

"Did that actually happen?"

"Yes, it did."

Dean blushed. I didn't see the point in feeling embarrassed of these emotions anymore. I step closer to him. My hand finds the back of his neck and brings his head closer to mine. Our lips gently touch for a moment.

"I love you, Dean Winchester."

"I love you, Castiel."

We kiss again. I half expect someone to come and interrupt us: Crowley with his snide remarks. Caleb announcing that Sam has woken up. Or Gabriel and one of his asinine pranks.

But nothing happens. For what was probably a minute, but actually immeasurable, Dean and I were the only two people on Earth.

FORTY-FIVE

Morning came in hues of orange and dark blue around five thirty. I couldn't sleep very well, and took to reading one of Sarah's books, "the American Revolution and the Quest for Independence."

It was rather interesting, if not a little dull in the wording. Someone stirred on the bed behind me. Glancing over, I could see Sam waking up.

Why do you look so surprised? We only rented one room. Gabriel didn't need to sleep.

Sam sat up, and looked around still sleepy eyed.

"What time is it?"

"About five thirty."

Sam pulled the covers back over his head and went back to sleep. However, he couldn't. For about five minute, he tossed and turned before jumping out of bed muttering under his breath.

"Don't you hate it when you're tired but you _aren't_ tired?" Sam said turning on the coffee maker.

"I haven't had that experience yet."

On the other bed, Dean snored loudly.

"If only we had a feather," Sam said with an evil smile on his face.

I thought the surgery got rid of any darkness in Sam's soul. Why did he want to attack Dean with a feather? Feathers aren't exactly harmful, but as a former angel, I know the dangers one can pose if it gets near an eye.

"Have we any plans for today?"

"I'm not sure," I answer. "We may be heading out on the road again. We have to get Sarah back to school, now that I think about it."

"True. I wouldn't mind hanging out at Bobby's for a while." Sam fills a cup with coffee and sits down across from me. "Studying?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you taking a history test or something?"

"Oh. No. Just reading to pass time."

"Most people don't read text books when trying to pass time," Sam said, trying not to laugh. "So while I was losing my mind, what happened between you and Dean?"

"Pardon?"

"Come on, I can tell something happened."

Dean sat up, eerily like Sam did and looked out the window. "You two are inhuman," he growled before laying back down, placing a pillow over his head.

I debated telling Sam, but I figured I'd let Dean have the honors of letting him know.

"Alright, something did happen. Dean can fill you in."

"Fair enough," Sam said, smiling. He took another sip of his coffee and turned on his computer. I returned to reading about the Civil War.

#

Sam and Dean took the Impala, leaving me to travel with Caleb. This would be the most opportune time to discuss with Caleb my newfound relationship with Dean.

For sure hostilities will be expected, but I decided he ought to know.

"Caleb," I began. How to phrase this?

"_Yeah_?" he said, turning to face me.

"You know I will always love your mom."

"_Yeah, Dad, I know. What's this about? You have a new girlfriend_?"

"No. Dean and I are…together."

Caleb nodded and looked out the window again. I glance at him for a moment, expecting the volcanic eruption any moment.

"That's it?" I ask. "I figured you'd throw a fit."

"_I said everything I wanted to say_," Caleb answered, looking at me again. "_It's off my chest and in the past. Besides, this conversation got awkward the moment you said you're a queer. I've nothing against gays. I'm actually indifferent toward sexual orientation_."

Like father, like son…

"_It just tends to be a bit awkward when your dad comes out of the closet_."

And the silence remained awkward for most of the drive back to Sioux Falls. Caleb read a novel, a black paperback book titled _Good Omens_.

We stopped for lunch at a restaurant outside of Las Vegas about five hours later. Dean seemed flushed. Sam kept up this pretense of taunting.

The moment I was out of the Galaxie, Sam tackled me. Apparently, Dean told him.

"My new big brother!" He shouted childishly.

What had gotten into him? Are these side effects to the surgery Caleb performed on his soul? Dear Lord, I hope so.

"_I'm going inside before he realizes that that makes me his nephew_," Caleb said walking toward the entrance.

Sam had heard and released me, to seize Caleb around the shoulders and swing him around like a stuffed animal.

"My cute transsexual nephew!"

"_I AM NOT A TRANNY, YOU HYPERACTIVE SASQUATCH! AHH! MY BOOK_!"


	24. 46 and 47

FORTY-SIX

We stopped at Clifton, Colorado for the night, opting to continue on our journey again in the morning after breakfast. Thankfully, tomorrow is Friday. That gives us the weekend to relax, not think about anything…except getting Caleb back to school.

We returned to Sioux Falls around 10 PM and pulled into Bobby's drive way half an hour later. We walked up the stairs and entered.

"Bobby! House call!" Dean shouted when we entered.

"_Keep it down_," Caleb snapped. "_What if he's sleeping_?"

"At ten thirty?" Sam asked, checking his watch.

Caleb blinked. "_Okay, I have no answer for that_," he slung Sarah's bag back over her shoulder. "_I'm going to put my things up. Then I want to eat. I'm starved_."

"Amen to that," Dean said.

Caleb jogged up the stairs while the rest of us entered the kitchen. "Bobby?" Sam called.

"Down here," we heard him shout. We went down stairs to see Bobby almost toppled by a falling box, Sam caught it before it before it could do any real damage to Bobby's head.

"Thanks," he said, dusting off a leather bound book.

"Not a problem. Maybe we should fix this shelf…"

"If I ever get a free moment, I will."

"What'cha got there, Bobby?" Dean asked, peering at the book.

"I'm just doing some research for another idjit handling a case up in Wisconsin. This is all I got on phantoms."

"Cool…"

"What's his deal?"

"New lover," Sam said.

"Boy, you need to stop thinking with the down—"

"HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!"

We ran upstairs to see Gabriel caught in a circle of fire. Caleb was grinning mischievously.

"Caleb, what the hell?"

"_Trust me, whatever bonus is being offered, it's worth it_."

"What bonus?"

"_I received a message from the other Nephilim. Whoever can pin Gabriel down long enough gets some sort of surprise bonus. I'm hoping it's a soul for Sarah so I can finally go home_."

"Will someone let me out?" Gabriel shouted.

"_NOBODY MOVE_," Caleb shrieked, "_or Loki gets it_."

"Really?" Gabriel asked. "What am I going to get? A mani-pedi? My hair done?"

"_Tempting_," Caleb said, "_But I get the idea that that won't work on you. I was actually thinking of my kind of fun. Trust me, for anyone who is not as resilient as I am, it can be torturous_."

"Caleb, you're not allowed to torture anyone."

"_I never said it was **physical** torture. There are a plethora of annoying songs dating back to Ancient Greece that I know would make anyone want to kill themselves. Plus I always save the best for last: For the last few years, it has actually remained to be_ My Heart Will Go On."

Gabriel snorted, laughing. Dean, Bobby, and Sam backed away. Dean pulled me back.

"You don't want that, trust me," Dean whispered.

"That's the best you can do, Kid? I_ invented _annoying!"

"_Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better_."

The room fills with a bright light. Gabriel and Caleb cease bantering. The light dims and My Brother stood where the light's point of origin had gone out.

"Hello, Gabriel," he said.

Gabriel looked more afraid than I felt when I was in his position just a few months ago.

"Brother, I can explain why I left."

"I know why you left. Why did you run from me?"

Gabriel didn't answer, but bowed his head.

My Brother turned to us. "Could someone order pizza? I think there's a 24 hour delivery place somewhere in town. This could take a while."

Sam pulled his phone out and punched in a number before holding his phone to his ear.

"Gabriel, why did you run from me when I called you?"

"I was scared! Alright? Happy? I was terrified of what you'd do to me for bailing."

"I wasn't going to do anything. I only wanted to talk; see how you're doing. I know why you ran away from home and honestly, I don't blame you. I am sorry if Lucifer, Michael, and I frightened you with our fights, but I had no intention of letting another one of my children following in Lucifer's steps."

"You thought that I'd—No! I'm a trickster, not the new Accuser."

"I know. Apart from the morbidity of your humor, you've always been the funniest of us. Other than Uriel and even then, Uriel was rather morbid."

"Uriel didn't run away."

"True. He didn't. He fell," Our Brother said. "Our family is falling apart, Gabriel. One of our brothers is the Accuser. You allied yourself with self-glorified, power hogging humans who think they're gods and joined them. Several of your brothers and sisters have been murdered for being loyal to me. Your brother Castiel has been stripped of his grace, the one thing that gives him his angelic powers because he tried to become me. Gabriel you have always been the one who was most loyal to me in the Heavenly realms. There is nothing you, any of you, can do to make me mad enough to punish you without reason. I can say the same thing for humans. Why else would I have died 2000 years ago?"

Gabriel winced. I glance between them.

"Lucifer killed you. I saw Death take you. I couldn't handle that."

"Lucifer could not kill me with the best weapon forged in Heaven. Death is bitter that I had defied his authority and rose from the dead. I didn't die for some pointless reason to give you a chance to escape our family. I died to save our family down to the last child, be it angel and human. So I don't want to hear lame ass excuses like 'I was afraid,' 'I couldn't handle it,' 'you died.' Look at me, Gabe. Do I look dead?"

"Pizza's here," Sam called, carrying in three large boxes of pizza.

FORTY-SEVEN

We look at Sam. _Was that really the best time? _I think. Gabriel and I look at our Brother again.

"I'm up for pizza." He snapped his fingers and the flames went out. Gabriel stepped out of the circle.

"You got meat lovers, didn't you?"

Dean grinned. "What? You thought we'd _not _get meat lovers? What do you think we are? Barbarians?"

I'm rather impressed. I had expected Dean to lash out at my Brother. The civility he displayed while talking to him was rather impressive.

"So do we have to pray?" Dean asked as the plates were passed around. "I mean, that's what you do, isn't it?"

My Brother sucked in a breath. "The thing about prayer is this: it's a conversation between me and you as an individual. My sons and daughters," here he looked at me and Gabriel, "can hear prayers as well and can be sent to give a verbal message. However, that tends to be a bit…shall we say…frightening for my followers. So I tend to forbid angels from coming here unless they practice subtlety. They're not good at it, but they've gotten better."

I actually think I'm rather subtle.

"But as for prayer before meals, it's a prayer of thanksgiving. It can be as simple as this: 'Good day, good food, good God let's eat.'"

No one laughed, though my brother smiled.

"What? It has the basic components of a thanksgiving prayer. I am thanked for the day, then the food. And then it's ended. Of course, all prayers are traditionally ended with 'amen.'"

"Jesus," Dean said, "I misjudged you. You're awesome."

"Thanks, Dean."

"But why can't your followers be more like you?" Sam asked, taking a slice of supreme pizza.

Caleb had already grabbed a slice of meat lovers and was chewing quietly at the table, watching the conversation.

"Honestly, it wasn't always like that. They used to understand quite well what it meant to follow me. But many of them have lost sight of what it means to follow me. Some disregard the laws of the prophets. Those laws are not to be disregarded because they know they'll be forgiven every Sunday. However, they lack true repentance for their actions."

My Brother took a slice of meat lovers pizza.

"Rather, it's a lifestyle that I displayed for them, and many of them don't know how to follow me because they find my way to be foolish. Eventually, they move onto something they like better, that they find more comfortable." He took a bite. "That's good pizza."

"Does anyone remember?" Sam asked.

"Lots of people do. They're just not the people you hear about on the evening news. Around the world, there are organizations of my people doing my work, aiding their brothers and sisters in me. Elijah had the same problem once. He felt vastly alone, discouraged, depressed. I had to remind him that it isn't his job to make everyone turn over a new leaf. And I told him that were thousands of people who still followed me faithfully, as everyone in this room does. Whether they are aware of it or not."

He turned Bobby.

"You are a great man, one of the greatest I have known," My Brother said. "You work behind the scenes to make sure that many people, including these two brothers, are able to come home safely after they have done their job, much of the time without a word of thanks."

He turned to Dean. "You've long sought your father's approval without knowing that you had long had it from him. Your father loved you, Dean. You should not feel guilt for him giving up his life for you. Many fathers would lay their lives down for their families, just as I have for mine.

"Sam, you are the prodigal son I have spoken of long ago come to life. Regardless of the battles you have fought with your father, he welcomed you home with open arms and was always willing to welcome you home no matter how many times you wanted to run away."

My Brother faced me. "You have always been a quick study, Castiel. But you rely so much on your gained wisdom that you have almost forgot what it meant to rely on me. I used to be the one you relied on regardless of the circumstances. I am sorry that I made myself scarce earlier. It was wrong of Joshua to tell the Winchesters I did not want to be found. The truth is I was glad you came looking. You only looked in the wrong places. The whole time I was right in front of you."

"Gabriel, my brother, what have you to fear when I am greater than anything you think is more powerful than you? Nothing is bigger than I. Nothing is more frightening as I. And what makes me frightening is my love for you, your brothers and sisters, this whole world. What shall you fear? Whatever it is, I am greater than it and I am your father and your brother."

He turned to Caleb. "Caleb, you have been a servant among servants and your reward awaits you. But for now, I have words for scared and hurting little girl."

Caleb blinked, still chewing. My Brother knelt by him and stared into Sarah's eyes.

"Sarah, sweetheart," my Brother began. "Your mother and father wouldn't want you to stay lost in the back of your mind. You need to come out and be a child again. Caleb will stay with you as long as you need him to, but this is your body and Caleb can only keep it for a short while. This is your life, Sarah, and you need to seize it. You don't know how lucky you are. Both of your parents loved you dearly and would love to see you grow up healthy and happy. These people here around you will make sure you do. But first, you need to come back out. And I am available whenever you need me."

He kissed her forehead, straightened and grabbed another piece of pizza. "For the road. Thank you, Sam, this was a great dinner."

Bright light filled the room and when it died, my Brother had left.

* * *

I would assume here that Dean's comfort with Jesus in the room should be assumed that he, like Castiel, has had conversations with him in private.

Honestly though, Jesus is easy to talk to once you know how, no matter how silly you feel.

As for Jesus' words to the group: I personally feel that that is the message they each teach us, save for Caleb and Sarah as they are OCs.

I hope you liked the chapters here. :)


	25. 48 and 49

FORTY-EIGHT

The next few days were be filled with joy. I could only pinpoint this joy to be the aftereffects of my Brother's visit. Gabriel, sometime the morning after, left again. I do not know where.

"_I was born in the area that was later called Canaan_," Caleb told Sam the following Saturday. Dean and I listened in. I'm not sure about Dean, but I was curious. "_And I get the feeling Dad told you what happened, right_?"

"Yeah, pretty much. You were taken up to heaven around eight years old because the first Nephilim started screaming 'here's Johnny.'"

"_Claudios did seem to lose his mind the older he got. And a few of the others closer to his age also began showing signs of madness. When he started killing people was when our Lord brought us to Heaven, turning our Earthly bodies to stone. Michael, our uncle, wanted to have us wiped out, but our Lord wouldn't allow it. We were some of the most devout of his children, even if we were hybrids_."

"Then what about Emere? Why were they created?"

"_The Emere was a post-flood idea. About a couple hundred years passed after Noah before the first Emere was born and we return by age, oldest to youngest, every generation until we fulfill our last mission. Claudios finished his last in the early Elizabethan era. And this is my last_."

"Do you ever enjoy returning to Earth?" Dean asked.

"_Sometimes_," Caleb said hesitantly. "_Heaven's way better_."

"Who were your past Emere?" I ask.

"_That's a very long list, but so far my best partners have been Kaito Ota, Sayid Hadi, Rajesh Pandey, Gavin McLeod, and Alexandros Sanna. All five were over the last two thousand years and not necessarily in that order_."

"Gavin McLeod, haven't I heard that name before?" Bobby asked.

"_You have_," Caleb said, "_He's Crowley's son. Or was. If I wasn't around, poor Gavin probably would have been killed in his sleep long ago. Fergus McLeod was a ruthless son-of-a-bitch in life. He hasn't changed at all since his death. Well, he has a little, but not much._

"_Gavin probably would have been able to make it as the oldest Emere if not for the ship sinking_."

"So…all your best partners had been guys?" Sam asked. "No girls?"

"_I think someone thought it'd be a funny joke if I was assigned to work with a girl for once. Not that I mind, it's just a bit…how about this: I feel everything she feels physically on a very literal level_." Sam, Dean, and I winced.

"Well, it could be worse."

"_How? There's a chance she could die in childbirth, which are extremely painful enough when you're outside in the waiting room. I may have to be in there this time and I really don't want to_."

"This is us, over here," Dean said, "not pitying."

The conversation continued, and though I listened and could follow, I still felt a little sick hearing that Crowley abused his son, an Emere, and therefore in a roundabout way, _my son_.

There are so many levels of unacceptable, that sometimes, a little smiting is necessary. But regardless of whether Caleb could defend himself or not, he is still my son and _no one_ gets away with hurting him.

No one.

"_The most annoying part about Emere, though, isn't the powers, or the crazy body switching that happens occasionally, or the going to and from Heaven at will; it's how everyone treats you like a child even though you're actually much older than you look. I know I'm in the body of a child, but I don't act like one, do I_?"

"Well," Sam said, "getting treated like a child may make you act like a child anyway. Even though you really want to be treated like an adult."

"Lots of kids are like that."

"_Yes. But most of them aren't reborn every few decades and have to relive puberty_."

I stand and head downstairs and prepare the summoning spell and draw a new Devil's Trap on the ceiling, covering the old one with some flammable alcohol. Moments later, Crowley was standing in the Devil's Trap. He threw his hands up.

"What _now_?" he asked, not bothering to hide his exasperation.

"You knew your son was an Emere?"

"I suspected it, yes. I only recently found out it was true."

"You abused him."

"Yes," Crowley admitted. "Come off it, I was terrible dad. It's hard not to hate the brat when the mother's a whore." He paused, staring at me a moment. "But the spirit inside him was _your _son, wasn't it? That's why you summoned me. But you can't kill me. I'm _still useful_ to you and the Winchester brothers."

"True, I can't kill," I say. "But I can make you regret the day you hurt my son."

Crowley smirked. "Really? The son was a pain-in-the-ass, and his pain-in-the-ass Dad thinks he can make me blubber out an apology. You forget what you are, don't you? You can't hurt me so long as you are a human."

I shake my head. It is my turn to smirk. "Humans are rather creative. Notice where the Devil's Trap is."

Crowley arched an eyebrow. "I'm standing on it."

"That one is ruined. Look up." Crowley did, noticing the new trap. I take the lighter I used to light the candles for the summoning and threw it on the ground.

"You and your whole family—what is this obsession with fire?" Those were his last words before he himself began to burn.

FORTY-NINE

The door slammed open and the room echoed with pounding feet.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam asked, grabbing a bucket of water. He doused the flames, but Crowley still shrieked.

"Holy water? You bloody sadist! Do you get kicks out of this?"

"I think it has more to do with that you abused your kid while simultaneously abusing his," Sam said. "That'd make any parent crazy. Hell, if I was him, you'd already be dead."

Crowley glared at Sam. "How can you stay so chipper when saying that?"

Sam shrugged, "After effects from the surgery, maybe. I have been happier lately."

"_Yeah, that happens. Relax you're angst will come back little by little. Dad, did you remember the acid_?"

"We don't have acid on hand."

"_Oh come on, there's always acid **somewhere**_."

"Yep, they're sadists," Sam said, still a bit chipper.

Crowley growled, glaring at Caleb and me. In the depths of his hatred, there was a little fear. "Fine! I'm sorry for being a…a…"

"_Honestly, there is no word to describe how much of a douche bag you are_," Caleb said. "_And 'sorry' won't do a thing. Gavin was a good kid, you low-life buggered son of a bitch. He was lucky to have gotten away when he did. Any longer with you, he'd have been killed. You didn't even have to sell your soul to go to Hell. You already had your name down on long before Gavin was born_."

"So you thought you'd whine to Daddy?"

"_Actually, I didn't expect him to snap_."

"That's why it's an unspoken rule for children to tell their parents nothing. It's guaranteed they'll snap," Dean said. Four pairs of eyes stared at him. "That was from a parenting magazine my ex had…Leave me alone, I got bored."

"Regardless, it was years ago."

"To you it may just be years!" I shout.

"What's done is done. The past cannot be changed. How I treat my kid is my business. I hadn't the slightest that your kid was in the mix also."

"I doubt it'd have changed anything!"

"Please! Stop!"

The room again went silent. Where Caleb had been sitting was now Sarah. Her eyes were closed tightly and her hands pressed her head in tightly. A few tears streamed downed her face.

She must have heard us and was frightened. I inhale deeply and let it out.

I looked at Crowley. The burns he received from the fire and holy water were healing quickly. Despite his appearance of still maintaining some sort of control, he looked pathetic.

He's not worth my time.

I walked away, ascending the steps and walking around Sarah.

Dean followed me.

"I know you're upset, but—Cas, stop and look at me."

I turn around.

"You can't act rashly. It's never done any of us good. Crowley's probably got a list of things he plans to do to get back at you now. Probably as long as the one he has for Caleb."

"He won't dare go after Caleb."

"Okay, say you're right and he's not going after Caleb. That makes you his target."

"I've no reason to fear Crowley. Demons are too beneath me to worry about."

"Cas, you not an angel," Dean snapped, seizing my collar, slightly pulling me up. "You don't inspire fear in demons anymore!" his grip slackened. "If you won't fear for yourself, then I will fear for you."

What does one say to that? I am unsure.

Another person emerged from the basement. Sarah. Her arms crossed and head bowed. She didn't look at either of us as she passed by. Before walking up the stairs, she glanced up at us.

"What you did down there," she said to me, "that was barbaric. We're supposed to be better than they are and you go ahead and prove to Crowley that we're not. What you did was not human."

She raced up the stairs, not daring to look back at us.

Dean and I watch the stairs, expecting Sarah to return to say something else. She did not.

"Since when do demons get pity from Emere?"

"They don't," I say. "I suppose Sarah just has a big heart."

"Right place, wrong group of creatures."

"Precisely." I look at the stairs again. "I should go talk to her."

Dean shook his head. "No, bad idea. She's a walking time bomb right now. I'd give her a bit of time to calm down before talking to her."

Another two pairs of feet stomped up the stairs. "Well, we let Crowley go," Bobby said. "He won't be back for a while unless we summon his sorry ass here. Where's Sarah?"

"In her room," Dean said. "Being a girl."

"Balls," Bobby muttered. "I liked it better when we didn't have to walk on eggshells here."


	26. 50 and 51

FIFTY

Sarah did not come down to eat for lunch an hour later. Nor did she venture downstairs again later when I was sure she'd be hungry.

But how does one approach an upset teenage girl? I've seen people who have been able to succeed; most have been parents who knew what to say.

Myself, I have no experience with dealing with teenage girls.

None of us do.

Except maybe Sam.

Many times that day, I thought I ought to go upstairs and try to speak to her. But each time, I shook it off.

_Just another few minutes. She'll come down_, I kept telling myself. By four o'clock came, I finally ascended the steps and knocked on Sarah's door.

"Sarah? May I come in?"

No one answered, so I turned the door knob and opened the door slowly.

Sarah's gone, her window left open. I approach the window and look outside. There are no signs of anyone around, save Sam and Dean enjoying an afternoon beer. Wherever she's gone, it was hours ago.

I run down the stairs, muttering every kind of profanity I knew.

I grab my coat from the rack and run outside. Dean and Sam look at me with mild surprise. "What's up?" Sam asked.

"Sarah's run away."

"What? When?" Dean asked, getting up. They followed me to my car.

"I don't know," I snap, climbing into the Galaxie. I turn the car on and head out of Bobby's. We don't know where to look. We try the school, but it's locked and empty. Maybe she'd be at the library, but there was no one there. She couldn't have gone far if she didn't take any money.

"Try the school again," Dean suggested. "Maybe she snuck in."

"The park," Sam added. "She could be at the park."

"_The bridge_," a third voice said.

I slam on the brakes and the car skids to a halt. Dean and I turn around to face Caleb.

Pale and shaking, Caleb was the image of a man afraid.

"What happened?" Dean demanded.

"_Sarah…did something_," he said breathlessly. "_It cast me out of her. Almost like…an exorcism. I don't have time to explain. She's at a bridge with a man… I couldn't tell. Whatever it is she did, it's not goo—_"

The car was engulfed in blinding light. When it died, Caleb was gone.

Exorcism. A man. And a bridge. Perhaps it happened just a minute or two ago.

"Is there a bridge in Sioux Falls?" I ask.

"Covell Lake bridge," Sam said. "We're ten minutes away, but it's behind us a few streets at North Covell and West Madison."

I turn the car around in a reckless u-turn back onto Russell Street.

"West Bailey," Dean shouted. "_West Bailey! Turn now!_" I turned the car left sharply, ignoring the angry honking cars I almost crashed into.

"Cas, we needed to take the left fork!"

"Should have told me that sooner!"

"It's fine! It's fine," Sam said. "Take North Walts Avenue, then left on West Brookings, right on Menlo, left on Madison."

I followed Sam's instructions.

"Brakes!" Dean shouted. "Cas, the brakes!" I slammed on them. The car skidded to a halt. We lurched forward. As soon as the car was in a complete stop, Dean and Sam jumped out of the car while I put it in park and turned the engine off.

"Sarah!" Sam shouted. I ran after them. Sarah had passed out on the bridge. Dean pulled out the EMF. Sam picked Sarah up.

"Someone was definitely here," Dean said, pocketing the EMF. "How is she?"

"Sleeping," Sam said.

"What the hell did she do?" Dean muttered.

Perhaps, I can provide, gentlemen."

Crowley appeared, looking a bit more himself opposed to this morning. He seemed particularly pleased with himself.

"What did you do to her?" I demanded.

"Don't be like that," he said. "Sarah asked me for a favor and had something worth offering. That was all.

"She doesn't have a soul for you."

"She has the next best thing: her psyche."

FIFTY-ONE

_She has the next best thing: her psyche._

Is that even possible? What demon would settle for the mind rather than the soul?

"It's actually quite a good offer," Crowley said, smirking. "I collect her mind in fifty years; let her live a long and fulfilling life, a better deal than any other Emere has been promised. She must have heard her friend Caleb talking about how long she can expect to live at some point during her sleeping state."

She did…perhaps that morning.

"You can relax," Crowley added, smiling at us mockingly. "Under my regime, Sarah's mind will be magnificently preserved. Perhaps. No one's dared take someone's _mind_ to hell before. It usually dies with the body or lives on in the soul. Minds are, I believe, far more fragile than souls."

Sarah's eyes opened. She squirmed out of Sam's arms and he set her down.

Had she ever been conscious when Caleb was gone? I doubted it. Until Sam, I didn't think it was possible for one to be away when one's soul was missing.

Sarah glanced at us one by one.

"Hi guys," she said, blinking at us. It was subtle, but after Sam, it was easier to see the signs of a body missing her soul:

The lack of emotion, the blank stare…

How long will we have to wait until the ruthless nature comes out?

Sarah turned around to face Crowley. "Has it been done?"

"Caleb is gone, I assure you," Crowley said, smirking wider. "He won't kill you now."

"Kill?" Sam said.

I make Sarah face me. "Sarah, Caleb wasn't going to kill you."

"Yes he was," Sarah said calmly. "He wanted to return to Heaven. He didn't want to stay here with me. Caleb has always been my best friend. And he was going to betray me."

How does one convince someone that history isn't set in stone? There wasn't any guarantee that she'd die young like the other Emere. Perhaps there have been exceptions to the norm, some who have found a way to live long lives.

"At least with Caleb you were human," Dean snarled.

Sarah glared at him.

"Caleb made me a freak. I couldn't live a normal life. Not as long as he was around!"

"And what about now? Are you any _less _of a freak?"

"Dean!" Sam shouted.

"Tell her what happened to you, Sam. Tell her what it means to live without a soul."

Sam glanced from his brother to Sarah. He sighed.

"Sarah, you're going to stop being able to sleep. You won't feel tired…ever. You won't be able to discern right and wrong, only what is logical and you'll always take the logical path, even when it's the wrong thing to do. You'll kill innocent people you are sworn to protect and you won't care in the least. If it gets bad enough, you'll hurt someone you love and won't care. Without the soul, you are disconnected from emotion."

"How would you know?"

"I lived without my soul for a year. For the longest time I had amnesia of what happened that year. When I got it back, for a while, I was allowed to live without knowing, though I really wanted to. Sarah, you need Caleb to be your soul. You know that."

"He doesn't even _want _to be me. I heard him complain time and time again about being in a girl's body."

"I don't think he realized you were listening. You were grieving."

"Grief? Useless. Everyone dies eventually. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up over my parents' death."

"Crowley," I say, "Let her out of this deal."

Crowley hissed, sucking his teeth. "I'd love to, but I can't. You know the rules, angel."

"Sarah," I say, "Are you aware of what you did?"

"Yes."

"How sure?"

"Very."

"So you know and accept that you will never go to heaven for this act?"

Sarah said nothing. Her hands rose and covered her ears, as though what I said had caused some sort disturbance in whatever she thought was balanced.

"I just wanted to live."

"We all want to live, Sarah," Sam said. "But like you said, we all have to die eventually, but where we go after we die is up to us."

"As long as you remained an Emere, you would have been able to go to heaven," I said. "All Emere eventually go to heaven, though their lives are short. That doesn't mean those lives were ever unfulfilling. But when you sell yourself to a demon, whatever you have sold is doomed to Hell. I thought you knew."

Sarah backed away from us, shaking her head. She turned around and ran toward the lake.

"Sarah!"

"Where are you going? Get back here!"

I heard a loud humming. "COVER YOUR EARS AND CLOSE YOUR EYES!" I bellow, following my words exactly. I make sure Sam and Dean have done as I instructed as the humming grew louder, intensified. My ear drums felt like they were about to shatter when it stopped.


	27. 52

FIFTY-TWO

Crowley was gone.

Dean and Sam are fine.

But where is Sarah?

We cross the bridge and I look around.

"Sarah!" Sam shouted. Dean and I followed him as he ran toward Sarah. She was kneeling down on the ground, staring upward at the sky, her arms spread out as though lifting up some invisible sacrifice.

"Sarah?"

She fell backwards. Sam caught her and checked for a pulse. "She's alive." He picked her up. "Let's get her home."

Back at Bobby's we waited in the living room for Sarah to wake up. At some point we all eventually fell asleep.

I woke to smells coming from the kitchen. What opened my eyes was the soft clanging of pots, a sound one makes when trying to be quiet. Warm sunlight bathed the room in a soft golden glow. I did not realize that I had fallen asleep on Dean's shoulder until that moment, getting up.

Dean still slept, snoring softly.

Sam's chin touched his chest on the other side of the couch. Bobby was snoring in the recliner chair.

I entered the kitchen. Sarah scraped a pair of pancakes onto a plate. Her hair had been tied back and she was dressed in fresh clothes.

"Sarah?" Sarah turned around and looked at me. "Or Caleb?"

"Caleb's gone. He's in Heaven."

"What about what happened yesterday?"

Sarah turned back to the frying pan. "Caleb came back. Just for a few seconds. I didn't recognize him at first. The Caleb I knew didn't look so…awe inspiring. He always seemed to be a regular person to me. But yesterday, he…the only thing I really remember is he had six wings."

Six wings?

"You think he became a seraph?" I asked.

"What's a seraph?"

"A type of angel whom, up until recently, I would have said did not exist. I don't know much about them, other than that they have six wings and are in the presence of God eternally…"

"I know what I saw, I just…can't be entirely sure…Well, there is one thing. He gave me a feather. It's inside me. I think he said something about it being enough of a substitute for a soul." Another pancake found its way to the plate, followed by another.

Sarah poured more batter in the pan.

"Are angels allowed to give souls?"

"Not that I know of," I answer. "Then again, I've never tried."

"Something smells good." I heard Dean say, stretching. "Well, look who's up. How you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?"

"Don't call me 'Sleeping Beauty,'" Sarah said, trying to form a mask of anger, but the corners of her mouth twitched into a bright smile.

"So does anyone know what happened yesterday?" Dean asked. Sarah told him what she told me. Asked the same questions Sarah had asked me. All I wish is that I had better answers to give.

And the process repeated when Bobby and Sam finally woke.

We sat around the table and ate together, as though this family was normal. But we're anything but normal.

But at least for an hour or two, we can pretend.

I may have underestimated what being human meant.

For the longest time, I didn't understand why my Father loved them so much. Now I know: they're persistent. They have the ability to make choices, even when the odds are against them.

I thought, as all my brothers and sisters thought, that he was playing favorites. That wasn't the case at all. Siblings are loved in different ways. As long as I was an angel, the tasks set to me were all I had. Obedience was my command.

But for a human, this race of disobedient, puerile children has the potential to chose whether to obey or not. Many don't, but those who do are blessed even when they do not know they are obedient.

A few months ago, I thought I'd hate being human.

But there's nothing else I'd rather be.

#Ten Years Later#

"No, Gabe," Sarah said, seizing what may be the sixth bottle of beer from Gabriel. "You need to stay somewhat sober."

"For what?" Gabriel asked. "Fireworks?"

Gabriel and Sarah continued to argue over what meant as a proper New Year's Eve celebration. For Gabriel, it meant getting pissed drunk. Sarah preferred loud explosions and pyromania (which is agreeable on various different levels and perspectives. I personally thought both made an excellent New Year's celebration).

Sam, who recently broke his leg a week ago during a hunt (somehow still successfully executed despite the excrutiating pain in his calf), sat somberly on the couch, watching them argue.

Dean had still not managed to scrape up Super Bowl tickets for Gabriel (which Sarah is still trying to threaten Gabriel to give up).

Still, "you reap what you sew."

And Dean is definitely reaping the consequences. Eventually, Gabriel will give up. If Sarah persists.

Myself?

Time goes on much as it always has. Sometimes, there is much change. Other times, however, it's as though change doesn't even exist.

"Cas," Sarah said, shaking me awake, "Countdown's starting."

"I wasn't sleeping." I wasn't. I was resting my eyes.

"Liar," she said.

She shook Dean, who had fallen asleep. "Is it over yet?"

"Afraid not," Sam said, trying as best he could to adjust his position. "Stupid leg."

"Well, next time don't twist your ankle and fall down a flight or three of stairs," Dean said.

Sarah would have us shouting the numbers, if we weren't so tired. She couldn't even get Bobby to wake up.

He bolted up when Gabriel began blowing noise makers.

Dean and I shared a quick kiss before bailing to our room, anything to escape Sarah's reckless party enthusiasm. "Can I get drunk now?" I heard Gabriel ask.

"No!"

~END~

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing (if you reviewed).

I had hoped there would have been a little more romance, but it _is _the first slash fic I've written...

I did what I could to keep them in character while maintaining the drama and correct theology that the series lacks (though, Sam became Tamaki or Shigure a time or two, but hopefully you'll forgive me for that).

Again, I thank you all for reading and sticking with the story to the end.


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